la 


FRANCES  HODGSON 
BURNETT 


LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


PRESENTED  BY 
MRS.  ALFRED  W.  I NGALLS 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


Emily  Fox-Sefon 


Emily    Fox-Setoti 


Emily  Fox  -  Seton 

Being  "The  Making  of  a  Marchioness'' 

and  "The  Methods  of  Lady 

Walderhurst" 


By 
Frances  Hodgson  Burnett 


Illustrated  by 

C.  D.  Williams 


NEW  YORK 
FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  IQOI,  by 
The  Century  Company 

Copyright,  IQOI,  by 
Mrs.  Frances  Hodgson  Burnett 

Copyright,  IQOlt  by 
Frederick  A.  Stokes  Company 


September,  IQOQ 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

EMILY  FOX-SETON      .      .      .      .      .     Frontispiece 

CORA  BROOKE Page     30 

LADY   AGATHA    SLADE      ....  Page     76 

THE  MARQUIS  OF  WALDERHURST     .  Page  no 

LADY  WALDERHURST Page  132 

CAPTAIN  ALEC  OSBORN     ....  Page  214 

HESTER  OSBORN Page  290 

LADY  MARIA  BAYNE Page  395 


Part  One 


HEN  Miss  Fox-Seton  de 
scended  from  the  twopenny 
bus  as  it  drew  up,  she 
gathered  her  trim  tailor- 
made  skirt  about  her  with 
neatness  and  decorum,  be 
ing  well  used  to  getting  in  and  out  of  twopenny 
buses  and  to  making  her  way  across  muddy  London 
streets.  A  woman  whose  tailor-made  suit  must 
last  two  or  three  ^years  soon  learns  how  to  pro 
tect  it  from  splashes,  and  how  to  aid  it  to  retain 
the  freshness  of  its  folds.  During  her  trudging 
about  this  morning  in  the  wet,  Emily  Fox-Seton 
had  been  very  careful,  and,  in  fact,  was  returning 
to  Mortimer  Street  as  unspotted  as  she  had  left 
it.  She  had  been  thinking  a  good  deal  about  her 


2  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

dress — this  particular  faithful  one  which  she  had 
already  worn  through  a  twelvemonth.  Skirts  had 
made  one  of  their  appalling  changes,  and  as  she 
walked  down  Regent  Street  and  Bond  Street  she 
had  stopped  at  the  windows  of  more  than  one  shop 
bearing  the  sign  "  Ladies'  Tailor  and  Habit-Maker," 
and  had  looked  at  the  tautly  attired,  preternaturally 
slim  models,  her  large,  honest  hazel  eyes  wearing 
an  anxious  expression.  She  was  trying  to  discover 
where  seams  were  to  be  placed  and  how  gathers 
were  to  be  hung;  or  if  there  were  to  be  gathers 
at  all ;  or  if  one  had  to  be  bereft  of  every  seam  in  a 
style  so  unrelenting  as  to  forbid  the  possibility  of 
the  honest  and  semi-penniless  struggling  with  the 
problem  of  remodelling  last  season's  skirt  at  all. 

"  As  it  is  only  quite  an  ordinary  brown,"  she 
had  murmured  to  herself,  "  I  might  be  able  to  buy 
a  yard  or  so  to  match  it,  and  I  might  be  able  to 
join  the  gore  near  the  pleats  at  the  back  so  that  it 
would  not  be  seen." 

She  quite  beamed  as  she  reached  the  happy  con 
clusion.  She  was  such  a  simple,  normal-minded 
creature  that  it  took  but  little  to  brighten  the  aspect 
of  life  for  her  and  to  cause  her  to  break  into  her 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  3 

good-natured,  childlike  smile.  A  little  kindness 
from  any  one,  a  little  pleasure  or  a  little  comfort, 
made  her  glow  with  nice-tempered  enjoyment. 

As  she  got  out  of  the  bus,  and  picked  up  her 
rough  brown  skirt,  prepared  to  tramp  bravely 
through  the  mud  of  Mortimer  Street  to  her  lodg 
ings,  she  was  positively  radiant.  It  was  not  only 
her  smile  which  was  childlike,  her  face  itself  was 
childlike  for  a  woman  of  her  age  and  size.  She 
was  thirty-four  and  a  well-set-up  creature,  with  fine 
square  shoulders  and  a  long  small  waist  and  good 
hips.  She  was  a  bi-g  woman,  but  carried  herself 
well,  and  having  solved  the  problem  of  obtaining, 
through  marvels  of  energy  and  management,  one 
good  dress  a  year,  wore  it  so  well,  and  changed 
her  old  ones  so  dexterously,  that  she  always  looked 
rather  smartly  dressed.  She  had  nice,  round,  fresh 
cheeks  and  nice,  big,  honest  eyes,  plenty  of  mouse- 
brown  hair  and  a  short,  straight  nose.  She  was 
striking  and  well-bred-looking,  and  her  plenitude 
of  good-natured  interest  in  everybody,  and  her  pleas 
ure  in  everything  out  of  which  pleasure  could  be 
wrested,  gave  her  big  eyes  a  fresh  look  which  made 
her  seem  rather  like  a  nice  overgrown  girl  than  a 


4  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

mature  woman  whose  life  was  a  continuous  struggle 
with  the  narrowest  of  mean  fortunes. 

She  was  a  woman  of  good  blood  and  of  good 
education,  as  the  education  of  such  women  goes. 
She  had  few  relatives,  and  none  of  them  had  any 
intention  of  burdening  themselves  with  her  penni- 
lessness.  They  were  people  of  excellent  family, 
but  had  quite  enough  to  do  to  keep  their  sons  in 
the  army  or  navy  an'd  find  husbands  for  their 
daughters.  When  Emily's  mother  had  died  and 
her  small  annuity  had  died  with  her,  none  of  them 
had  wanted  the  care  of  a  big  raw-boned  girl,  and 
Emily  had  had  the  situation  frankly  explained  to 
her.  At  eighteen  she  had  begun  to  work  as  as 
sistant  teacher  in  a  small  school ;  the  year  following 
she  had  taken  a  place  as  nursery-governess;  then 
she  had  been  reading-companion  to  an  unpleasant 
old  woman  in  Northumberland.  The  old  woman 
had  lived  in  the  country,  and  her  relatives  had  hov 
ered  over  her  like  vultures  awaiting  her  decease. 
The  household  had  been  gloomy  and  gruesome 
enough  to  have  driven  into  melancholy  madness  any 
girl  not  of  the  sanest  and  most  matter-of-fact  tem 
perament.  Emily  Fox-Seton  had  endured  it  with 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  5 

an  unfailing  goo'd  nature,  which  at  last  had  actually 
awakened  in  the  breast  of  her  mistress  a  ray  of 
human  feeling.  When  the  old  woman  at  length 
died,  and  Emily  was  to  be  turned  out  into  the  world, 
it  was  revealed  that  she  had  been  left  a  legacy  of  a 
few  hundred  pounds,  and  a  letter  containing  some 
rather  practical,  if  harshly  expressed,  advice. 

Go  back  to  London  [Mrs.  Maytham  had  written  in 
her  feeble,  crabbed  hand].  You  are  not  clever  enough 
to  do  anything  remarkable  in  the  way  of  earning  your 
living,  but  you  are  so  good-natured  that  you  can  make 
yourself  useful  to  a  lot  of  helpless  creatures  who  will 
pay  you  a  trifle  for  looking  after  them  and  the  affairs 
they  are  too  lazy  or  too  foolish  to  manage  for  them 
selves.  You  might  get  on  to  one  of  the  second-class 
fashion-papers  to  answer  ridiculous  questions  about 
house-keeping  or  wall-papers  or  freckles.  You  know 
the  kind  of  thing  I  mean.  You  might  write  notes  or 
do  accounts  and  shopping  for  some  lazy  woman.  You 
are  a  practical,  honest  creature,  and  you  have  good 
manners.  I  have  often  thought  that  you  had  just  the 
kind  of  commonplace  gifts  that  a  host  of  commonplace 
people  want  to  find  at  their  service.  An  old  servant 
of  mine  who  lives  in  Mortimer  Street  would  probably 
give  you  cheap,  decent  lodgings,  and  behave  well  to 
you  for  my  sake.  She  has  reason  to  be  fond  of  me. 
Tell  her  I  sent  you  to  her,  and  that  she  must  take 
you  in  for  ten  shillings  a  week. 


6  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Emily  wept  for  gratitude,  and  ever  afterward 
enthroned  old  Mrs.  Maytham  on  an  altar  as  a 
princely  and  sainted  benefactor,  though  after  she 
had  invested  her  legacy  she  got  only  twenty  pounds 
a  year  from  it. 

"  It  was  so  kind  of  her,"  she  used  to  say  with 
heartfelt  humbleness  of  spirit.  "  I  never  dreamed 
of  her  doing  such  a  generous  thing.  I  hadn't  a 
shadow  of  a  claim  upon  her — not  a  shadow" 

It  was  her  way  to  express  her  honest  emotions 
with  emphasis  which  italicised,  as  it  were,  her  out 
pourings  of  pleasure  or  appreciation. 

She  returned  to  London  and  presented  herself  to 
the  ex-serving-woman.  Mrs.  Cupp  had  indeed  rea 
son  to  remember  her  mistress  gratefully.  At  a 
time  when  youth  and  indiscreet  affection  had  be 
trayed  her  disastrously,  she  had  been  saved  from 
open  disgrace  and  taken  care  of  by  Mrs.  May 
tham. 

The  old  lady,  who  had  then  been  a  vigorous, 
sharp-tongued,  middle-aged  woman,  had  made  the 
soldier  lover  marry  his  despairing  sweetheart,  and 
when  he  had  promptly  drunk  himself  to  death,  she 
had  set  her  up  in  a  lodging-house  which  had  thriven 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  7 

and  enabled  her  to  support  herself  and  her  daughter 
decently. 

In  the  second  story  of  her  respectable,  dingy  house 
there  was  a  small  room  which  she  went  to  some 
trouble  to  furnish  up  for  her  dead  mistress's  friend. 
It  was  made  into  a  bed-sitting-room  with  the  aid 
of  a  cot  which  Emily  herself  bought  and  disguised 
decently  as  a  couch  during  the  daytime,  by  means 
of  a  red  and  blue  Como  blanket.  The  one  window 
of  the  room  looked  out  upon  a  black  little  back 
yard  and  a  sooty  wall  on  which  thin  cats  crept 
stealthily  or  sat  and  mournfully  gazed  at  fate. 
The  Como  rug  played  a  large  part  in  the  decoration 
of  the  apartment.  One  of  them,  with  a  piece  of 
tape  run  through  a  hem,  hung  over  the  door  in  the 
character  of  a  portiere;  another  covered  a  corner 
which  was  Miss  Fox-Seton's  sole  wardrobe.  As  she 
began  to  get  work,  the  cheerful,  aspiring  creature 
bought  herself  a  Kensington  carpet-square,  as  red 
as  Kensington  art  would  permit  it  to  be.  She  cov 
ered  her  chairs  with  Turkey-red  cotton,  frilling 
them  round  the  seats.  Over  her  cheap  white  muslin 
curtains  (eight  and  eleven  a  pair  at  Robson's)  she 
hung  Turkey-red  draperies.  She  bought  a  cheap 


8  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

cushion  at  one  of  Liberty's  sales,  and  some  bits  of 
twopenny-halfpenny  art  china  for  her  narrow  man 
telpiece.  A  lacquered  tea-tray  and  a  tea-set  of  a 
single  cup  and  saucer,  a  plate  and  a  teapot,  made 
her  feel  herself  almost  sumptuous.  After  a  day 
spent  in  trudging  about  in  the  wet  or  cold  of  the 
streets,  doing  other  people's  shopping,  or  searching 
for  dressmakers  or  servants'  characters  for  her  pa 
trons,  she  used  to  think  of  her  bed-sitting-room  with 
joyful  anticipation.  Mrs.  Cupp  always  had  a  bright 
fire  glowing  in  her  tiny  grate  when  she  came  in, 
and  when  her  lamp  was  lighted  under  its  home 
made  shade  of  crimson  Japanese  paper,  its  cheerful 
air,  combining  itself  with  the  singing  of  her  little, 
fat,  black  kettle  on  the  hob,  seemed  absolute  luxury 
to  a  tired,  damp  woman. 

Mrs.  Cupp  and  Jane  Cupp  were  very  kind  and 
attentive  to  her.  No  one  who  lived  in  the  same 
house  with  her  could  have  helped  liking  her.  She 
gave  so  little  trouble,  and  was  so  expansively  pleased 
by  any  attention,  that  the  Cupps, — who  were  some 
times  rather  bullied  and  snubbed  by  the  "  profes 
sionals  "  who  generally  occupied  their  other  rooms, 
— quite  loved  her.  Sometimes  the  "  professionals," 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  9 

extremely  smart  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  did  turns 
at  the  halls  or  played  small  parts  at  theatres,  were 
irregular  in  their  payments  or  went  away  leaving 
bills  behind  them;  but  Miss  Fox-Seton's  payments 
were  as  regular  as  Saturday  night,  and,  in  fact, 
there  had  been  times  when,  luck  being  against  her, 
Emily  had  gone  extremely  hungry  during  a  whole 
week  rather  than  buy  her  lunches  at  the  ladies'  tea- 
shops  with  the  money  that  would  pay  her  rent. 

In  the  honest  minds  of  the  Cupps,  she  had  be 
come  a  sort  of  possession  of  which  they  were  proud. 
She  seemed  to  bring  into  their  dingy  lodging-house 
a  touch  of  the  great  world, — that  world  whose 
people  lived  in  Mayfair  and  had  country-houses 
where  they  entertained  parties  for  the  shooting  and 
the  hunting,  and  in  which  also  existed  the  maids 
and  matrons  who  on  cold  spring  mornings  sat,  amid 
billows  of  satin  and  tulle  and  lace,  surrounded  with 
nodding  plumes,  waiting,  shivering,  for  hours  in 
their  carriages  that  they  might  at  last  enter  Buck 
ingham  Palace  and  be  admitted  to  the  Drawing- 
room.  Mrs.  Cupp  knew  that  Miss  Fox-Seton  was 
"  well  connected ;  "  she  knew  that  she  possessed  an 
aunt  with  a  title,  though  her  ladyship  never  took  the 


io  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

slightest  notice  of  her  niece.  Jane  Cupp  took 
"  Modern  Society,"  and  now  and  then  had  the 
pleasure  of  reading  aloud  to  her  young  man  little 
incidents  concerning  some  castle  or  manor  in  which 
Miss  Fox-Seton's  aunt,  Lady  Malfry,  was  staying 
with  earls  and  special  favorites  of  the  Prince's. 
Jane  also  knew  that  Miss  Fox-Seton  occasionally 
sent  letters  addressed  "To  the  Right  Honourable 
the  Countess  of  So-and-so,"  and  received  replies 
stamped  with  coronets.  Once  even  a  letter  had 
arrived  adorned  with  strawberry-leaves,  an  incident 
which  Mrs.  Cupp  and  Jane  had  discussed  with  deep 
interest  over  their  hot  buttered-toast  and  tea. 

Emily  Fox-Seton,  however,  was  far  from  making 
any  professions  of  grandeur.  As  time  went  on  she 
had  become  fond  enough  of  the  Cupps  to  be  quite 
frank  with  them  about  her  connections  with  these 
grand  people.  The  countess  had  heard  from  a 
friend  that  Miss  Fox-Seton  had  once  found  her  an 
excellent  governess,  and  she  had  commissioned  her 
to  find  for  her  a  reliable  young  ladies'  serving-maid. 
She  had  done  some  secretarial  work  for  a  charity 
of  which  the  duchess  was  patroness.  In  fact,  these 
people  knew  her  only  as  a  well-bred  woman  who 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  11 

for  a  modest  remuneration  would  make  herself  ex 
tremely  useful  in  numberless  practical  ways.  She 
knew  much  more  of  them  than  they  knew  of  her, 
and,  in  her  affectionate  admiration  for  those  who 
treated  her  with  human  kindness,  sometimes  spoke 
to  Mrs.  Cupp  or  Jane  of  their  beauty  or  charity 
with  a  very  nice,  ingenuous  feeling.  Naturally 
some  of  her  patrons  grew  fond  of  her,  and  as  she 
was  a  fine,  handsome  young  woman  with  a  perfectly 
correct  bearing,  they  gave  her  little  pleasures,  in 
viting  her  to  tea  or  luncheon,  or  taking  her  to  the 
theatre. 

Her  enjoyment  of  these  things  was  so  frank  and 
grateful  that  the  Cupps  counted  them  among  their 
own  joys.  Jane  Cupp — who  knew  something  of 
dressmaking — felt  it  a  brilliant  thing  to  be  called 
upon  to  renovate  an  old  dress  or  help  in  the  making 
of  a  new  one  for  some  festivity.  The  Cupps  thought 
their  tall,  well-built  lodger  something  of  a  beauty, 
and  when  they  had  helped  her  to  dress  for  the 
evening,  baring  her  fine,  big  white  neck  and  arms, 
and  adorning  her  thick  braids  of  hair  with  some 
sparkling,  trembling  ornaments,  after  putting  her 
in  her  four-wheeled  cab,  they  used  to  go  back  to 


12  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

their  kitchen  and  talk  about  her,  and  wonder  that 
some  gentleman  who  wanted  a  handsome,  stylish 
woman  at  the  head  of  his  table,  did  not  lay  himself 
and  his  fortune  at  her  feet. 

"  In  the  photograph-shops  in  Regent  Street  you 
see  many  a  lady  in  a  coronet  that  hasn't  half  the 
good  looks  she  has,"  Mrs.  Cupp  remarked  fre 
quently.  "  She's  got  a  nice  complexion  and  a  fine 
head  of  hair,  and — if  you  ask  me — she's  got  as  nice 
a  pair  of  clear  eyes  as  a  lady  could  have.  Then 
look  at  her  figure — her  neck  and  her  waist!  That 
kind  of  big  long  throat  of  hers  would  set  off  rows 
of  pearls  or  diamonds  beautiful !  She's  a  lady  born, 
too,  for  all  her  simple,  every-day  way;  and  she's 
a  sweet  creature,  if  ever  there  was  one.  For  kind- 
heartedness  and  good-nature  I  never  saw  her  equal." 

Miss  Fox-Seton  had  middle-class  patrons  as  well 
as  noble  ones, — in  fact,  those  of  the  middle  class 
were  far  more  numerous  than  the  duchesses, — so 
it  had  been  possible  for  her  to  do  more  than  one 
good  turn  for  the  Cupp  household.  She  had  got 
sewing  in  Maida  Vale  and  Bloomsbury  for  Jane 
Cupp  many  a  time,  and  Mrs.  Cupp's  dining-room 
floor  had  been  occupied  for  years  by  a  young  man 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  13 

Emily  had  been  able  to  recommend.  Her  own 
appreciation  of  good  turns  made  her  eager  to  do 
them  for  others.  She  never  let  slip  a  chance  to 
help  any  one  in  any  way. 

It  was  a  good-natured  thing  done  by  one  of  her 
patrons  who  liked  her,  which  made  her  so  radiant 
as  she  walked  through  the  mud  this  morning.  She 
was  inordinately  fond  of  the  country,  and  having 
had  what  she  called  "  a  bad  winter,"  she  had  not 
seen  the  remotest  chance  of  getting  out  of  town  at 
all  during  the  summer  months.  The  weather  was 
beginning  to  be  unusually  hot,  and  her  small  red 
room,  which  seemed  so  cosy  in  winter,  was  shut 
in  by  a  high  wall  from  all  chance  of  breezes.  Oc 
casionally  she  lay  and  panted  a  little  in  her  cot,  and 
felt  that  when  all  the  private  omnibuses,  loaded  with 
trunks  and  servants,  had  rattled  away  and  deposited, 
their  burdens  at  the  various  stations,  life  in  town 
would  be  rather  lonely.  Every  one  she  knew  would 
have  gone  somewhere,  and  Mortimer  Street  in 
August  was  a  melancholy  thing. 

And  Lady  Maria  had  actually  invited  her  to 
Mallowe.  What  a  piece  of  good  fortune — what 
an  extraordinary  piece  of  kindness! 


H  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

She  did  not  know  what  a  source  of  entertainment 
she  was  to  Lady  Maria,  and  how  the  shrewd, 
worldly  old  thing  liked  her.  Lady  Maria  Bayne 
was  the  cleverest,  sharpest-tongued,  smartest  old 
woman  in  London.  She  knew  everybody  and  had 
done  everything — in  her  youth,  a  good  many  things 
not  considered  highly  proper.  A  certain  royal  duke 
had  been  much  pleased  with  her,  and  people  had 
said  some  very  nasty  things  about  it.  But  this  had 
not  hurt  Lady  Maria.  She  knew  how  to  say  nasty 
things  herself,  and  as  she  said  them  wittily  they 
were  usually  listened  to  and  repeated. 

Emily  Fox-Seton  had  gone  to  her  first  to  write 
notes  for  an  hour  every  evening.  She  had  sent, 
declined,  and  accepted  invitations,  and  put  off  chari 
ties  and  dull  people.  She  wrote  a  fine,  dashing 
hand,  and  had  a  matter-of-fact  intelligence  and 
knowledge  of  things.  Lady  Maria  began  to  de 
pend  on  her  and  to  find  that  she  could  be  sent 
on  errands  and  depended  on  to  do  a  number  of 
things.  Consequently,  she  was  often  at  South  Aud- 
ley  Street,  and  once,  when  Lady  Maria  was  sud 
denly  taken  ill  and  was  horribly  frightened  about 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  15 

herself,  Emily  was  such  a  comfort  to  her  that  she 
kept  her  for  three  weeks. 

"  The  creature  is  so  cheerful  and  perfectly  free 
from  vice  that  she's  a  relief,"  her  ladyship  said 
to  her  nephew  afterward.  "  So  many  women  are 
affected  cats.  She'll  go  out  and  buy  you  a  box  of 
pills  or  a  porous  plaster,  but  at  the  same  time  she 
has  a  kind  of  simplicity  and  freedom  from  spites 
and  envies  which  might  be  the  natural  thing  for  a 
princess." 

So  it  happened  that  occasionally  Emily  put  on  her 
best  dress  and  most  carefully  built  hat  and  went  to 
South  Audley  Street  to  tea.  (Sometimes  she  had 
previously  gone  in  buses  to  some  remote  place  in 
the  City  to  buy  a  special  tea  of  which  there  had 
been  rumours.)  She  met  some  very  smart  people 
and  rarely  any  stupid  ones,  Lady  Maria  being  in 
cased  in  a  perfect,  frank  armour  of  good-humoured 
selfishness,  which  would  have  been  capable  of  burn 
ing  dulness  at  the  stake. 

"  I  won't  have  dull  people,"  she  used  to  say. 
"  I'm  'dull  myself." 

When  Emily  Fox-Seton  went  to  her  on  the  morn- 


16  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

ing  in  which  this  story  opens,  she  found  her  con 
sulting  her  visiting-book  and  making  lists. 

"  I'm  arranging  my  parties  for  Mallowe,"  she 
said  rather  crossly.  "How  tiresome  it  is!  The 
people  one  wants  at  the  same  time  are  always  nailed 
to  the  opposite  ends  of  the  earth.  And  then  things 
are  found  out  about  people,  and  one  can't  have  them 
till  it's  blown  over.  Those  ridiculous  Dexters! 
They  were  the  nicest  possible  pair — both  of  them 
good-looking  and  both  of  them  ready  to  flirt  with 
anybody.  But  there  was  too  much  flirting,  I  sup 
pose.  Good  heavens!  if  I  couldn't  have  a  scan 
dal  and  keep  it  quiet,  I  wouldn't  have  a  scandal 
at  all.  Come  and  help  me,  Emily." 

Emily  sat  down  beside  her. 

"  You  see,  it  is  my  early  August  party,"  said  her 
ladyship,  rubbing  her  delicate  little  old  nose  with 
her  pencil,  "  and  Walderhurst  is  coming  to  me. 
It  always  amuses  me  to  have  Walderhurst.  The 
moment  a  man  like  that  comes  into  a  room  the 
women  begin  to  frisk  about  and  swim  and  languish, 
except  those  who  try  to  get  up  interesting  conver 
sations  they  think  likely  to  attract  his  attention. 
They  all  think  it  is  possible  that  he  may  marry 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  17 

them.  If  he  were  a  Mormon  he  might  have  mar 
chionesses  of  Walderhurst  of  all  shapes  and  sizes." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Emily,  "  that  he  was  very 
much  in  love  with  his  first  wife  and  will  never 
marry  again." 

"  He  wasn't  in  love  with  her  any  more  than  he 
was  in  love  with  his  housemaid.  He  knew  he  must 
marry,  and  thought  it  very  annoying.  As  the  child 
died,  I  believe  he  thinks  it  his  duty  to  marry  again. 
But  he  hates  it.  He's  rather  dull,  and  he  can't  bear 
women  fussing  about  and  wanting  to  be  made  love 
to." 

They  went  over  the  visiting-book  and  discussed 
people  and  dates  seriously.  The  list  was  made  and 
the  notes  written  before  Emily  left  the  house.  It 
was  not  until  she  had  got  up  and  was  buttoning 
her  coat  that  Lady  Maria  bestowed  her  boon. 

"  Emily,"  she  said,  "  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to 
Mallowe  on  the  2d.  I  want  you  to  help  me  to 
take  care  of  people  and  keep  them  from  boring  me 
and  one  another,  though  I  don't  mind  their  boring 
one  another  half  so  much  as  I  mind  their  boring  me. 
I  want  to  be  able  to  go  off  and  take  my  nap  at  any 
hour  I  choose.  I  will  not  entertain  people.  What 


1 8  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

you  can  do  is  to  lead  them  off  to  gather  things  or 
look  at  church  towers.  I  hope  you'll  come." 

Emily  Fox-Seton's  face  flushed  rosily,  and  her 
eyes  opened  and  sparkled. 

"  O  Lady  Maria,  you  are  kind!  "  she  said.  "You 
know  how  I  should  enjoy  it.  I  have  heard  so 
much  of  Mallowe.  Every  one  says  it  is  so  beautiful 
and  that  there  are  no  such  gardens  in  England." 

"  They  are  good  gardens.  My  husband  was 
rather  mad  about  roses.  The  best  train  for  you 
to  take  is  the  2:30  from  Paddington.  That  will 
bring  you  to  the  Court  just  in  time  for  tea  on  the 
lawn." 

Emily  could  have  kissed  Lady  Maria  if  they  had 
been  on  the  terms  which  lead  people  to  make  dem 
onstrations  of  affection.  But  she  would  have  been 
quite  as  likely  to  kiss  the  butler  when  he  bent  over 
her  at  dinner  and  murmured  in  dignified  confidence, 
"Port  or  sherry,  miss?"  Bibsworth  would  have 
been  no  more  astonished  than  Lady  Maria  would, 
and  Bibsworth  certainly  would  have  expired  of  dis 
gust  and  horror. 

She  was  so  happy  when  she  hailed  the  twopenny 
bus  that  when  she  got  into  it  her  face  was  beaming 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  19 

with  the  delight  which  adds  freshness  and  good 
looks  to  any  woman.  To  think  that  such  good  luck 
had  come  to  her!  To  think  of  leaving  her  hot  little 
room  behind  her  and  going  as  a  guest  to  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  old  houses  in  England!  How  de 
lightful  it  would  be  to  live  for  a  while  quite  nat 
urally  the  life  the  fortunate  people  lived  year  after 
year — to  be  a  part  of  the  beautiful  order  and  pic- 
turesqueness  and  dignity  of  it!  To  sleep  in  a  lovely 
bedroom,  to  be  called  in  the  morning  by  a  perfect 
housemaid,  to  have  one's  early  tea  served  in  a  deli 
cate  cup,  and  to  listen  as  one  drank  it  to  the  birds 
singing  in  the  trees  in  the  park!  She  had  an  in 
genuous  appreciation  of  the  simplest  material  joys, 
and  the  fact  that  she  would  wear  her  nicest  clothes 
every  day,  and  dress  for  dinner  every  evening,  was 
a  delightful  thing  to  reflect  upon.  She  got  so  much 
more  out  of  life  than  most  people,  though  she  was 
not  aware  of  it. 

She  opened  the  front  door  of  the  house  in  Morti 
mer  Street  with  her  latch-key,  and  went  upstairs, 
almost  unconscious  that  the  damp  heat  was  dread 
ful.  She  met  Jane  Cupp  coming  down,  and  smiled 
at  her  happily. 


20  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  Jane,"  she  said,  "  if  you  are  not  busy,  I  should 
like  to  have  a  little  talk  with  you.  Will  you  come 
into  my  room  ?  " 

"  Yes,  miss,"  Jane  replied,  with  her  usual  re 
spectful  lady's  maid's  air.  It  was  in  truth  Jane's 
highest  ambition  to  become  some  day  maid  to  a 
great  lady,  and  she  privately  felt  that  her  associa 
tion  with  Miss  Fox-Seton  was  the  best  possible 
training.  She  used  to  ask  to  be  allowed  to  dress 
her  when  she  went  out,  and  had  felt  it  a  privilege 
to  be  permitted  to  "  do  "  her  hair. 

She  helped  Emily  to  remove  her  walking  dress, 
and  neatly  folded  away  her  gloves  and  veil.  She 
knelt  down  before  her  as  soon  as  she  saw  her  seat 
herself  to  take  off  her  muddy  boots. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Jane,"  Emily  exclaimed,  with 
her  kind  italicised  manner.  "  That  is  good  of 
you.  I  am  tired,  really.  But  such  a  nice  thing 
has  happened.  I  have  had  such  a  delightful  invi 
tation  for  the  first  week  in  August." 

"  I'm  sure  you'll  enjoy  it,  miss,"  said  Jane.  "  It's 
so  hot  in  August." 

"  Lady  Maria  Bayne  has  been  kind  enough  to 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  21 

invite  me  to  Mallowe  Court,"  explained  Emily, 
smiling  down  at  the  cheap  slipper  Jane  was  putting 
on  her  large,  well-shaped  foot.  She  was  built  on 
a  large  scale,  and  her  foot  was  of  no  Cinderella- 
like  proportions. 

"O  miss!"  exclaimed  Jane.  "How  beautiful! 
I  was  reading  about  Mallowe  in  '  Modern  Society  ' 
the  other  day,  and  it  said  it  was  lovely  and  her 
ladyship's  parties  were  wonderful  for  smartness. 
The  paragraph  was  about  the  Marquis  of  Walder- 
hurst." 

"  He  is  Lady  Maria's  cousin,"  said  Emily,  "  and 
he  will  be  there  when  I  am." 

She  was  a  friendly  creature,  and  lived  a  life  so 
really  isolated  from  any  ordinary  companionship 
that  her  simple  little  talks  with  Jane  and  Mrs. 
Cupp  were  a  pleasure  to  her.  The  Cupps  were 
neither  gossiping  nor  intrusive,  and  she  felt  as  if 
they  were  her  friends.  Once  when  she  had  been 
ill  for  a  week  she  remembered  suddenly  realising 
that  she  had  no  intimates  at  all,  and  that  if  she 
died  Mrs.  Cupp's  and  Jane's  would  certainly  be 
the  last  faces — and  the  only  ones — she  would  see. 


22  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

She  had  cried  a  little  the  night  she  thought  of  it, 
but  then,  as  she  told  herself,  she  was  feverish  and 
weak,  and  it  made  her  morbid. 

"  It  was  because  of  this  invitation  that  I  wanted 
to  talk  to  you,  Jane,"  she  went  on.  "  You  see,  we 
shall  have  to  begin  to  contrive  about  dresses." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  miss.  It's  fortunate  that  the  sum 
mer  sales  are  on,  isn't  it?  I  saw  some  beautiful 
colored  linens  yesterday.  They  were  so  cheap,  and 
they  do  make  up  so  smart  for  the  country.  Then 
you've  got  your  new  Tussore  with  the  blue  collar 
and  waistband.  It  does  become  you." 

"  I  must  say  I  think  that  a  Tussore  always  looks 
fresh,"  said  Emily,  "  and  I  saw  a  really  nice  little 
tan  toque — one  of  those  soft  straw  ones — for  three 
and  eleven.  And  just  a  twist  of  blue  chiffon  and 
a  wing  would  make  it  look  quite  good" 

She  was  very  clever  with  her  fingers,  and  often 
did  excellent  things  with  a  bit  of  chiffon  and  a 
wing,  or  a  few  yards  of  linen  or  muslin  and  a  rem 
nant  of  lace  picked  up  at  a  sale.  She  and  Jane 
spent  quite  a  happy  afternoon  in  careful  united  con 
templation  of  the  resources  of  her  limited  wardrobe. 
They  found  that  the  brown  skirt  could  be  altered, 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  23 

and,  with  the  addition  of  new  rcvers  and  collar  and 
a  jabot  of  string-coloured  lace  at  the  neck,  would 
look  quite  fresh.  A  black  net  evening  dress,  which 
a  patron  had  good-naturedly  given  her  the  year 
before,  could  be  remodelled  and  touched  up  de 
lightfully.  Her  fresh  face  and  her  square  \vhite 
shoulders  were  particularly  adorned  by  black.  There 
was  a  white  dress  which  could  be  sent  to  the  clean 
er's,  and  an  old  pink  one  whose  superfluous  breadths 
could  be  combined  with  lace  and  achieve  wonders. 
"  Indeed,  I  think  I  shall  be  very  well  off  for  din 
ner-dresses,"  said  Emily.  "  Nobody  expects  me  to 
change  often.  Every  one  knows — if  they  notice 
at  all."  She  did  not  know  she  was  humble-minded 
and  of  an  angelic  contentedness  of  spirit.  In  fact, 
she  did  not  find  herself  interested  in  contemplation 
of  her  own  qualities,  but  in  contemplation  and  ad 
miration  of  those  of  other  people.  It  was  neces 
sary  to  provide  Emily  Fox-Seton  with  food  and 
lodging  and  such  a  wardrobe  as  would  be  just 
sufficient  credit  to  her  more  fortunate  acquaintances. 
She  worked  hard  to  attain  this  modest  end  and 
was  quite  satisfied.  She  found  at  the  shops  where 
the  summer  sales  were  being  held  a  couple  of  cotton 


24  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

frocks  to  which  her  height  and  her  small,  long  waist 
gave  an  air  of  actual  elegance.  A  sailor  hat,  with 
a  smart  ribbon  and  well-set  quill,  a  few  new  trifles 
for  her  neck,  a  bow,  a  silk  handkerchief  daringly 
knotted,  and  some  fresh  gloves,  made  her  feel  that 
she  was  sufficiently  equipped. 

During  her  last  expedition  to  the  sales  she  came 
upon  a  nice  white  duck  coat  and  skirt  which  she 
contrived  to  buy  as  a  present  for  Jane.  It  was 
necessary  to  count  over  the  contents  of  her  purse 
very  carefully  and  to  give  up  the  purchase  of  a 
slim  umbrella  she  wanted,  but  she  did  it  cheer 
fully.  If  she  had  been  a  rich  woman  she  would 
have  given  presents  to  every  one  she  knew,  and  it 
was  actually  a  luxury  to  her  to  be  able  to  do  some 
thing  for  the  Cupps,  who,  she  always  felt,  were 
continually  giving  her  more  than  she  paid  for. 
The  care  they  took  of  her  small  room,  the  fresh 
hot  tea  they  managed  to  have  ready  when  she  came 
in,  the  penny  bunch  of  daffodils  they  sometimes 
put  on  her  table,  were  kindnesses,  and  she  was 
grateful  for  them.  "  I  am  very  much  obliged  to 
you,  Jane,"  she  said  to  the  girl,  when  she  got  into 
the  four-wheeled  cab  on  the  eventful  day  of  her 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  25 

journey  to  Mallowe.  "I  don't  know  what  I 
should  have  done  without  you,  I'm  sure.  I  feel 
so  smart  in  my  dress  now  that  you  have  altered  it. 
If  Lady  Maria's  maid  ever  thinks  of  leaving  her,  I 
am  sure  I  could  recommend  you  for  her  place." 


HERE  were  other  visitors 
to  Mallowe  Court  trav 
elling  by  the  2:30  from 
Paddington,  but  they 
were  much  smarter  peo 
ple  than  Miss  Fox-Seton, 
and  they  were  put  into  a  first-class  carriage  by  a 
footman  with  a  cockade  and  a  long  drab  coat. 
Emily,  who  traveled  third  with  some  workmen  with 
bundles,  looked  out  of  her  window  as  they  passed, 
and  might  possibly  have  breathed  a  faint  sigh  if 
she  had  not  felt  in  such  buoyant  spirits.  She  had 
put  on  her  revived  brown  skirt  and  a  white  linen 
blouse  with  a  brown  dot  on  it.  A  soft  brown  silk 
tie  was  knotted  smartly  under  her  fresh  collar,  and 
she  wore  her  new  sailor  hat.  Her  gloves  were 
brown,  and  so  was  her  parasol.  She  looked  nice 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  27 

and  taut  and  fresh,  but  notably  inexpensive.  The 
people  who  went  to  sales  and  bought  things  at  three 
and  eleven  or  "  four- three  "  a  yard  would  have 
been  able  to  add  her  up  and  work  out  her  total. 
But  there  would  be  no  people  capable  of  the  calcula 
tion  at  Mallowe.  Even  the  servants'  hall  was  likely 
to  know  less  of  prices  than  this  one  guest  did.  The 
people  the  drab-coated  footman  escorted  to  the  first- 
class  carriage  were  a  mother  and  daughter.  The 
mother  had  regular  little  features,  and  would  have 
been  pretty  if  she  had  not  been  much  too  plump. 
She  wore  an  extremely  smart  travelling-dress  and 
a  wonderful  dust-cloak  of  cool,  pale,  thin  silk.  She 
was  not  an  elegant  person,  but  her  appointments 
were  luxurious  and  self-indulgent.  Her  daughter 
was  pretty,  and  had  a  slim,  swaying  waist,  soft  pink 
cheeks,  and  a  pouting  mouth.  Her  large  picture- 
hat  of  pale-blue  straw,  with  its  big  gauze  bow  and 
crushed  roses,  had  a  slightly  exaggerated  Parisian 
air. 

"  It  is  a  little  too  picturesque,"  Emily  thought ; 
"  but  how  lovely  she  looks  in  it !  I  suppose  it  was 
so  becoming  she  could  not  help  buying  it.  I'm 
sure  it's  Virot." 


28  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

As  she  was  looking  at  the  girl  admiringly,  a 
man  passed  her  window.  He  was  a  tall  man  with 
a  square  face.  As  he  passed  close  to  Emily,  he 
stared  through  her  head  as  if  she  had  been  trans 
parent  or  invisible.  He  got  into  the  smoking-car 
riage  next  to  her. 

When  the  train  arrived  at  Mallowe  station,  he 
was  one  of  the  first  persons  who  got  out.  Two 
of  Lady  Maria's  men  were  waiting  on  the  plat 
form.  Emily  recognised  their  liveries.  One  met 
the  tall  man,  touching  his  hat,  and  followed  him  to 
a  high  cart,  in  the  shafts  of  which  a  splendid  iron- 
gray  mare  was  fretting  and  dancing.  In  a  few 
moments  the  arrival  was  on  the  high  seat,  the  foot 
man  behind,  and  the  mare  speeding  up  the  road. 
Miss  Fox-Seton  found  herself  following  the  second 
footman  and  the  mother  and  daughter,  who  were 
being  taken  to  the  landau  waiting  outside  the  sta 
tion.  The  footman  piloted  them,  merely  touching 
his  hat  quickly  to  Emily,  being  fully  aware  that 
she  could  take  care  of  herself. 

This  she  did  promptly,  looking  after  her  box, 
and  seeing  it  safe  in  the  Mallowe  omnibus.  When 
she  reached  the  landau,  the  two  other  visitors  were 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  29 

In  it.  She  got  in,  and  in  entire  contentment  sat 
down  with  her  back  to  the  horses. 

The  mother  and  daughter  wore  for  a  few  min 
utes  a  somewhat  uneasy  air.  They  were  evidently, 
sociable  persons,  but  were  not  quite  sure  how  to  be 
gin  a  conversation  with  an  as  yet  unintroduced 
lady  who  was  going  to  stay  at  the  country  house 
to  which  they  were  themselves  invited. 

Emily  herself  solved  the  problem,  producing  her 
commonplace  with  a  friendly  tentative  smile. 

"  Isn't  it  a  lovely  country?  "  she  said. 

"  It's  perfect,"  answered  the  mother.  "  I've  never 
visited  Europe  before,  and  the  English  country  seems 
to  me  just  exquisite.  We  have  a  summer  place  in 
America,  but  the  country  is  quite  different." 

She  was  good-natured  and  disposed  to  talk,  and, 
with  Emily  Fox-Seton's  genial  assistance,  conversa 
tion  flowed.  Before  they  were  half-way  to  Mal- 
lowe,  it  had  revealed  itself  that  they  were  from  Cin 
cinnati,  and  after  a  winter  spent  in  Paris,  largely 
devoted  to  visits  to  Paquin,  Doucet,  and  Virot,  they 
had  taken  a  house  in  Mayfair  for  the  season.  Their 
name  was  Brooke.  Emily  thought  she  remembered 
hearing  of  them  as  people  who  spent  a  great  deal 


30  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

of  money  and  went  incessantly  to  parties,  always  in 
new  and  lovely  clothes.  The  girl  had  been  pre 
sented  by  the  American  minister,  and  had  had  a 
sort  of  success  because  she  dressed  and  danced  ex 
quisitely.  She  was  the  kind  of  American  girl  who 
ended  by  marrying  a  title.  She  had  sparkling  eyes 
and  a  delicate  tip-tilted  nose.  But  even  Emily 
guessed  that  she  was  an  astute  little  person. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  to  Mallowe  Court  be 
fore?"  she  inquired. 

"  No ;  and  I  am  so  looking  forward  to  it.  It  is 
so  beautiful." 

"  Do  you  know  Lady  Maria  very  well  ?  " 

"  I've  known  her  about  three  years.  She  has 
been  very  kind  to  me." 

"  Well,  I  shouldn't  have  taken  her  for  a  par 
ticularly  kind  person.  She's  too  sharp." 

Emily  amiably  smiled.  "  She's  so  clever,"  she 
replied. 

"  Do  you  know  the  Marquis  of  Walderhurst  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Brooke. 

"  No,"  answered  Miss  Fox-Seton.  She  had  no 
part  in  that  portion  of  Lady  Maria's  life  which  was 
illumined  by  cousins  who  were  marquises.  Lord 


Brooke 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  31 

Walderhurst  did  not  drop  in  to  afternoon  tea.  He 
kept  himself  for  special  dinner-parties. 

"  Did  you  see  the  man  who  drove  away  in  the 
high  cart?  "  Mrs.  Brooke  continued,  with  a  touch 
of  fevered  interest.  "  Cora  thought  it  must  be  the 
marquis.  The  servant  who  met  him  wore  the 
same  livery  as  the  man  up  there " — with  a  nod 
toward  the  box. 

"  It  was  one  of  Lady  Maria's  servants,"  said 
Emily ;  "  I  have  seen  him  in  South  Audley  Street. 
And  Lord  Walderhurst  was  to  be  at  Mallowe. 
Lady  Maria  mentioned  it." 

"There,  mother!  "  exclaimed  Cora. 

"  Well,  of  course  if  he  is  to  be  there,  it  will  make 
it  interesting,"  returned  her  mother,  in  a  tone  in 
which  lurked  an  admission  of  relief.  Emily  won 
dered  if  she  had  wanted  to  go  somewhere  else  and 
had  been  firmly  directed  toward  Mallowe  by  her 
daughter. 

"  We  heard  a  great  deal  of  him  in  London  this 
season,"  Mrs.  Brooke  went  on. 

Miss  Cora  Brooke  laughed. 

"  We  heard  that  at  least  half  a  dozen  people 
were  determined  to  marry  him,"  she  remarked  with 


32  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

pretty  scorn.  "  I  should  think  that  to  meet  a  girl 
who  was  indifferent  might  be  good  for  him." 

"  Don't  be  too  indifferent,  Cora,"  said  her  mother, 
with  ingenuous  ineptness. 

It  was  a  very  stupid  bit  of  revelation,  and  Miss 
Brooke's  eyes  flashed.  If  Emily  Fox-Seton  had 
been  a  sharp  woman,  she  would  have  observed  that, 
if  the  role  of  indifferent  and  piquant  young  per 
son  could  be  made  dangerous  to  Lord  Walderhurst, 
it  would  be  made  so  during  this  visit.  The  man 
was  in  peril  from  this  beauty  from  Cincinnati  and 
her  rather  indiscreet  mother,  though  upon  the 
whole,  the  indiscreet  maternal  parent  might  un 
consciously  form  his  protection. 

But  Emily  only  laughed  amiably,  as  at  a  humor 
ous  remark.  She  was  ready  to  accept  almost  any 
thing  as  humour. 

"  Well,  he  would  be  a  great  match  for  any  girl," 
she  said.  "  He  is  so  rich,  you  know.  He  is  very 
rich." 

When  they  reached  Mallowe,  and  were  led  out 
upon  the  lawn,  where  the  tea  was  being  served 
under  embowering  trees,  they  found  a  group  of 
guests  eating  little  hot  cakes  and  holding  teacups 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  33 

in  their  hands.  There  were  several  young  women, 
and  one  of  them — a  very  tall,  very  fair  girl,  with 
large  eyes  as  blue  as  forget-me-nots,  and  with  a 
lovely,  limp,  and  long  blue  frock  of  the  same  shade 
— had  been  one  of  the  beauties  of  the  past  season. 
She  was  a  Lady  Agatha  Slade,  and  Emily  began  to 
admire  her  at  once.  She  felt  her  to  be  a  sort  of 
added  boon  bestowed  by  kind  Fate  upon  herself. 
It  was  so  delightful  that  she  should  be  of  this  par 
ticular  house-party — this  lovely  creature,  whom  she 
had  only  known  previously  through  pictures  in 
ladies'  illustrated  papers.  If  it  should  occur  to 
her  to  wish  to  become  the  Marchioness  of  Walder- 
hurst,  what  could  possibly  prevent  the  consumma 
tion  of  her  desire?  Surely  not  Lord  Walderhurst 
himself,  if  he  was  human.  She  was  standing,  lean 
ing  lightly  against  the  trunk  of  an  ilex-tree,  and  a 
snow-white  Borzoi  was  standing  close  to  her,  rest 
ing  his  long,  delicate  head  against  her  gown,  en 
couraging  the  caresses  of  her  fair,  stroking  hand. 
She  was  in  this  attractive  pose  when  Lady  Maria 
turned  in  her  seat  and  said: 

"  There's  Walderhurst." 

The  man  who  had  driven  himself  over  from  the 


34  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

station  in  the  cart  was  coming  towards  them  across 
the  grass.  He  was  past  middle  life  and  plain,  but 
was  of  good  height  and  had  an  air.  It  was  per 
haps,  on  the  whole,  rather  an  air  of  knowing  what 
he  wanted. 

Emily  Fox-Seton,  who  by  that  time  was  com 
fortably  seated  in  a  cushioned  basket-chair,  sipping 
her  own  cup  of  tea,  gave  him  the  benefit  of  the 
doubt  when  she  wondered  if  he  was  not  really  dis 
tinguished  and  aristocratic-looking.  He  was  really 
neither,  but  was  well-built  and  well-dressed,  and 
had  good  grayish-brown  eyes,  about  the  colour  of 
his  grayish-brown  hair.  Among  these  amiably 
worldly  people,  who  were  not  in  the  least  moved 
by  an  altruistic  prompting,  Emily's  greatest  capital 
consisted  in  the  fact  that  she  did  not  expect  to  be 
taken  the  least  notice  of.  She  was  not  aware  that 
it  was  her  capital,  because  the  fact  was  so  wholly 
a  part  of  the  simple  contentedness  of  her  nature 
that  she  had  not  thought  about  it  at  all.  The  truth 
was  that  she  found  all  her  entertainment  and  oc 
cupation  in  being  an  audience  or  a  spectator. 

It  did  not  occur  to  her  to  notice  that,  when  the 
guests  were  presented  to  him,  Lord  Walderhurst 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  35 

barely  glanced  at  her  surface  as  he  bowed,  and  could 
scarcely  be  said  to  forget  her  existence  the  next  sec 
ond,  because  he  had  hardly  gone  to  the  length  of 
recognising  it.  As  she  enjoyed  her  extremely  nice 
cup  of  tea  and  little  buttered  scone,  she  also  en 
joyed  looking  at  his  Lordship  discreetly,  and  trying 
to  make  an  innocent  summing  up  of  his  mental 
attitudes. 

Lady  Maria  seemed  to  like  him  and  to  be  pleased 
to  see  him.  He  himself  seemed,  in  an  undemon 
strative  way,  to  like  Lady  Maria.  He  also  was 
evidently  glad  to  get  his  tea,  and  enjoyed  it  as  he 
sat  at  his  cousin's  side.  He  did  not  pay  very  much 
attention  to  any  one  else.  Emily  was  slightly  dis 
appointed  to  see  that  he  did  not  glance  at  the  beauty 
and  the  Borzoi  more  than  twice,  and  then  that  his 
examination  seemed  as  much  for  the  Borzoi  as  for 
the  beauty.  She  could  not  help  also  observing  that 
since  he  had  joined  the  circle  it  had  become  more 
animated,  so  far  at  least  as  the  female  members 
were  concerned.  She  could  not  help  remember 
ing  Lady  Maria's  remark  about  the  effect  he  pro 
duced  on  women  when  he  entered  a  room.  Several 
interesting  or  sparkling  speeches  had  already  been 


36  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

made.  There  was  a  little  more  laughter  and  chat- 
tiness,  which  somehow  it  seemed  to  "be  quite  open  to 
Lord  Walderhurst  to  enjoy,  though  it  was  not  ex 
actly  addressed  to  him.  Miss  'Cora  Brooke,  how 
ever,  devoted  herself  to  a  young  man  in  white 
flannels  with  an  air  of  tennis  about  him.  She  sat 
a  little  apart  and  talked  to  him  in  a  voice  soft 
enough  to  even  exclude  Lord  Walderhurst.  Pres 
ently  she  and  her  companion  got  up  and  sauntered 
away.  They  went  down  the  broad  flight  of  ancient 
stone  steps  which  led  to  the  tennis-court,  lying  in 
full  view  below  the  lawn.  There  they  began  to 
play  tennis.  Miss  Brooke  skimmed  and  darted 
about  like  a  swallow.  The  swirl  of  her  lace  petti 
coats  was  most  attractive. 

"  That  girl  ought  not  to  play  tennis  in  shoes 
with  ridiculous  heels,"  remarked  Lord  Walder 
hurst.  "  She  will  spoil  the  court." 

Lady  Maria  broke  into  a  little  chuckle. 

"  She  wanted  to  play  at  this  particular  moment,'*' 
she  said.  "  And  as  she  has  only  just  arrived,  it  did 
not  occur  to  her  to  come  out  to  tea  in  tennis- 
shoes." 

"  She'll  spoil  the  court  all  the  same,"  said  the 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  37 

marquis.  "  What  clothes !  It's  amazing  how  girls 
dress  now." 

"  I  wish  I  had  such  clothes,  answered  Lady 
Maria,  and  she  chuckled  again.  "  She's  got  beauti 
ful  feet." 

"  She's  got  Louis  Quinze  heels,"  returned  his 
Lordship. 

At  all  events,  Emily  Fox-Seton  thought  Miss 
Brooke  seemed  to  intend  to  rather  keep  out  of  his 
way  and  to  practise  no  delicate  allurements.  When 
her  tennis-playing  was  at  an  end,  she  sauntered  about 
the  lawn  and  terraces  with  her  companion,  tilting 
her  parasol  prettily  over  her  shoulder,  so  that  it 
formed  an  entrancing  background  to  her  face  and 
head.  She  seemed  to  be  entertaining  the  young 
man.  His  big  laugh  and  the  silver  music  of  her 
own  lighter  merriment  rang  out  a  little  tantalis- 
ingly. 

"  I  wonder  what  Cora  is  saying,"  said  Mrs. 
Brooke  to  the  group  at  large.  "  She  always  makes 
men  laugh  so." 

Emily  Fox-Seton  felt  an  interest  herself,  the  mer 
riment  sounded  >so  attractive.  She  wondered  if 
perhaps  to  a  man  who  had  been  so  much  run  after 


38  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

a  girl  who  took  no  notice  of  his  presence  and  amused 
other  men  so  much  might  not  assume  an  agreeable 
aspect. 

But  he  took  more  notice  of  Lady  Agatha  Slade 
than  of  any  one  else  that  evening.  She  was  placed 
next  to  him  at  dinner,  and  she  really  was  radiant 
to  look  upon  in  palest  green  chiffon.  She  had  an 
exquisite  little  head,  with  soft  hair  piled  with  won 
drous  lightness  upon  it,  and  her  long  little  neck 
swayed  like  the  stem  of  a  flower.  She  was  lovely 
enough  to  arouse  in  the  beholder's  mind  the  anticipa 
tion  of  her  being  silly,  but  she  was  not  silly  at  all. 

Lady  Maria  commented  upon  that  fact  to  Miss 
Fox-Seton  when  they  met  in  her  bedroom  late  that 
night.  Lady  Maria  liked  to  talk  and  be  talked 
to  for  half  an  hour  after  the  day  was  over,  and 
Emily  Fox-Seton's  admiring  interest  in  all  she  said 
she  found  at  once  stimulating  and  soothing.  Her 
Ladyship  was  an  old  woman  who  indulged  and  in 
spired  herself  with  an  Epicurean  wisdom.  Though 
she  would  not  have  stupid  people  about  her,  she 
did  not  always  want  very  clever  ones. 

"  They  give  me  too  much  exercise,"  she  said. 
"  The  epigrammatic  ones  keep  me  always  jumping 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  39 

over  fences.  Besides,  I  like  to  make  all  the  epi 
grams  myself." 

Emily  Fox-Seton  struck  a  happy  mean,  and  she 
was  a  genuine  admirer.  She  was  intelligent  enough 
not  to  spoil  the  point  of  an  epigram  when  she  re 
peated  it,  and  she  might  be  relied  upon  to  repeat 
it  and  give  all  the  glory  to  its  originator.  Lady 
Maria  knew  there  were  people  who,  hearing  your 
good  things,  appropriated  them  without  a  scruple. 

To-night  she  said  a  number  of  good  things  to 
Emily  in  summing  up  her  guests  and  their  charac 
teristics. 

"  Walderhurst  has  been  to  me  three  times  when 
I  made  sure  that  he  would  not  escape  without  a  new 
marchioness  attached  to  him.  I  should  think  he 
would  take  one  to  put  an  end  to  the  annoyance  of 
dangling  unplucked  upon  the  bough.  A  man  in 
his  position,  if  he  has  character  enough  to  choose, 
can  prevent  even  his  wife's  being  a  nuisance.  He 
can  give  her  a  good  house,  hang  the  family  dia 
monds  on  her,  supply  a  decent  elderly  woman  as  a 
sort  of  lady-in-waiting  and  turn  her  into  the  pad 
dock  to  kick  up  her  heels  within  the  limits  of 
decorum.  His  own  rooms  can  be  sacred  to  him. 


40  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

He  has  his  clubs  and  his  personal  interests.  Hus 
bands  and  wives  annoy  each  other  very  little  in 
these  days.  Married  life  has  become  comparatively 
decent." 

"  I  should  think  his  wife  might  be  very  happy," 
commented  Emily.  "  He  looks  very  kind." 

"  I  don't  know  whether  he  is  kind  or  not.  It 
has  never  been  necessary  for  me  to  borrow  money 
from  him." 

Lady  Maria  was  capable  of  saying  odd  things  in 
her  refined  little  drawling  voice. 

"  He's  more  respectable  than  most  men  of  his 
age.  The  diamonds  are  magnificent,  and  he  not 
only  has  three  superb  places,  but  has  money  enough 
to  keep  them  up.  Now,  there  are  three  aspirants 
at  Mallowe  in  the  present  party.  Of  course  you 
can  guess  who  they  are,  Emily?  " 

Emily  Fox-Seton  almost  blushed.  She  felt  a  little 
indelicate. 

"  Lady  Agatha  would  be  very  suitable,"  she  said. 
"  And  Mrs.  Ralph  is  very  clever,  of  course.  And 
Miss  Brooke  is  really  pretty." 

Lady  Maria  gave  vent  to  her  small  chuckle. 

"  Mrs.  Ralph  is  the  kind  of  woman  who  means 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  41 

business.  She'll  corner  Walderhurst  and  talk  litera 
ture  and  roll  her  eyes  at  him  until  he  hates  her. 
These  writing  women,  who  are  intensely  pleased 
with  themselves,  if  they  have  some  good  looks  into 
the  bargain,  believe  themselves  capable  of  marry 
ing  any  one.  Mrs.  Ralph  has  fine  eyes  and  rolls 
them.  Walderhurst  won't  be  ogled.  The  Brooke 
girl  is  sharper  than  Ralph.  She  was  very  sharp  this 
afternoon.  She  began  at  once." 

"  I — I  didn't  see  her  " — wondering. 

"  Yes,  you  did ;  but  you  didn't  understand.  The 
tennis,  and  the  laughing  with  young  Heriot  on  the 
terrace!  She  is  going  to  be  the  piquant  young 
woman  who  aggravates  by  indifference,  and  disdains 
rank  and  splendour;  the  kind  of  girl  who  has  her 
innings  in  novelettes — but  not  out  of  them.  The 
successful  women  are  those  who  know  how  to 
toady  in  the  right  way  and  not  obviously.  Walder 
hurst  has  far  too  good  an  opinion  of  himself  to  be 
attracted  by  a  girl  who  is  making  up  to  another 
man:  he's  not  five-and-twenty." 

Emily  Fox-Seton  was  reminded,  in  spite  of  her 
self,  of  Mrs.  Brooke's  plaint:  "Don't  be  too  in 
different,  Cora."  She  did  not  want  to  recall  it 


42  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

exactly,  because  she  thought  the  Brookes  agreeable 
and  would  have  preferred  to  think  them  disinter 
ested.  But,  after  all,  she  reflected,  how  natural 
that  a  girl  who  was  so  pretty  should  feel  that  the 
Marquis  of  Walderhurst  represented  prospects. 
Chiefly,  however,  she  was  filled  with  admiration  at 
Lady  Maria's  cleverness. 

"  How  wonderfully  you  observe  everything,  Lady 
Maria!  "  she  exclaimed.  "  How  wonderfully!  " 

"  I  have  had  forty-seven  seasons  in  London. 
That's  a  good  many,  you  know.  Forty-seven  sea 
sons  of  debutantes  and  mothers  tend  toward  en 
lightenment.  Now  there  is  Agatha  Slade,  poor 
girl !  She's  of  a  kind  I  know  by  heart.  With 
birth  and  beauty,  she  is  perfectly  helpless.  Her 
people  are  poor  enough  to  be  entitled  to  aid  from 
the  Charity  Organisation,  and  they  have  had  the 
indecency  to  present  themselves  with  six  daughters 
— six!  All  with  delicate  skins  and  delicate  little 
noses  and  heavenly  eyes.  Most  men  can't  afford 
them,  and  they  can't  afford  most  men.  As  soon  as 
Agatha  begins  to  go  off  a  little,  she  will  have  to 
step  aside,  if  she  has  not  married.  The  others  must 
be  allowed  their  chance.  Agatha  has  had  the  ad- 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  43 

vertising  of  the  illustrated  papers  this  season,  and 
she  has  gone  well.  In  these  days  a  new  beauty  is 
advertised  like  a  new  soap.  They  haven't  given 
them  sandwich-men  in  the  streets,  but  that  is  about 
all  that  has  been  denied  them.  But  Agatha  has  not 
had  any  special  offer,  and  I  know  both  she  and  her 
mother  are  a  little  frightened.  Alix  must  come  out 
next  season,  and  they  can't  afford  frocks  for  two. 
Agatha  will  have  to  be  sent  to  their  place  in  Ireland, 
and  to  be  sent  to  Castle  Clare  is  almost  like  being 
sent  to  the  Bastille.  She'll  never  get  out  alive. 
She'll  have  to  stay  there  and  see  herself  grow  thin 
instead  of  slim,  and  colourless  instead  of  fair.  Her 
little  nose  will  grow  sharp,  and  she  will  lose  her 
hair  by  degrees." 

"  Oh !  "  Emily  Fox-Seton  gave  forth  sympathet 
ically.  "What  a  pity  that  would  be!  I  thought 
— I  really  thought — Lord  Walderhurst  seemed  to 
admire  her." 

"Oh,  every  one  admires  her,  for  that  matter; 
but  if  they  go  no  further  that  will  not  save  her 
from  the  Bastille,  poor  thing.  There,  Emily;  we 
must  go  to  bed.  We  have  talked  enough." 


O  awaken  in  a  still,  delicious 
room,  with  the  summer 
morning  sunshine  breaking 
softly  into  it  through  leafy 
greenness,  was  a  delightful 
thing  to  Miss  Fox-Seton, 
who  was  accustomed  to  opening  her  eyes  upon  four 
walls  covered  with  cheap  paper,  to  the  sound  of 
outside  hammerings,  and  the  rattle  and  heavy  roll 
of  wheels.  In  a  building  at  the  back  of  her  bed- 
sitting-room  there  lived  a  man  whose  occupation, 
beginning  early  in  the  morning,  involved  banging 
of  a  persistent  nature. 

She  awakened  to  her  first  day  at  Mallowe,  stretch 
ing  herself  luxuriously,  with  the  smile  .of  a  child. 
She  was  so  thankful  for  the  softness  of  her  lavender- 
fragrant  bed,  and  so  delighted  with  the  lovely  fresh 
ness  of  her  chintz-hung  room.  As  she  lay  upon  her 
44 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  45 

pillo\v,  she  could  see  the  boughs  of  the  trees,  and 
hear  the  chatter  of  darting  starlings.  When  her 
morning  tea  was  brought,  it  seemed  like  nectar  to 
her.  She  was  a  perfectly  healthy  woman,  with  a 
palate  as  unspoiled  as  that  of  a  six-year-old  child  in 
the  nursery.  Her  enjoyment  of  all  things  was  so 
normal  as  to  be  in  her  day  and  time  an  absolute 
abnormality. 

She  rose  and  dressed  at  once,  eager  for  the  open 
air  and  sunshine.  She  was  out  upon  the  lawn  be 
fore  any  one  else  but  the  Borzoi,  which  rose  from 
beneath  a  tree  and  came  with  stately  walk  toward 
her.  The  air  was  exquisite,  the  broad,  beautiful 
stretch  of  view  lay  warm  in  the  sun,  the  masses  of 
flowers  on  the  herbaceous  borders  showed  leaves  and 
flower-cups  adorned  with  glittering  drops  of  dew. 
She  walked  across  the  spacious  sweep  of  short- 
cropped  sod,  and  gazed  enraptured  at  the  country 
spread  out  below.  She  could  have  kissed  the  soft 
white  sheep  dotting  the  fields  and  lying  in  gentle, 
huddled  groups  under  the  trees. 

"The  darlings!"  she  said,  in  a  little,  effusive 
outburst. 

She   talked    to   the   dog   and    fondled   him.     He 


46  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

seemed  to  understand  her  mood,  and  pressed  close 
against  her  gown  when  she  stopped.  They  walked 
together  about  the  gardens,  and  presently  picked  up 
an  exuberant  retriever,  which  bounded  and  wriggled 
and  at  once  settled  into  a  steady  trot  beside  them. 
Emily  adored  the  flowers  as  she  walked  by  their 
beds,  and  at  intervals  stopped  to  bury  her  face  in 
bunches  of  spicy  things.  She  was  so  happy  that  the 
joy  in  her  hazel  eyes  was  pathetic. 

She  was  startled,  as  she  turned  into  a  rather  nar 
row  rose-walk,  to  see  Lord  Walderhurst  coming 
toward  her.  He  looked  exceedingly  clean  in  his 
fresh  light  knickerbocker  suit,  which  was  rather  be 
coming  to  him.  A  gardener  was  walking  behind, 
evidently  gathering  roses  for  him,  which  he  put  into 
a  shallow  basket.  Emily  Fox-Seton  cast  about  for 
a  suitable  remark  to  make,  if  he  should  chance  to 
stop  to  speak  to  her.  She  consoled  herself  with  the 
thought  that  there  were  things  she  really  wanted 
to  say  about  the  beauty  of  the  gardens,  and  certain 
clumps  of  heavenly-blue  campanulas,  which  seemed 
made  a  feature  of  in  the  herbaceous  borders.  It 
was  so  much  nicer  not  to  be  obliged  to  invent  ob 
servations.  But  his  lordship  did  not  stop  to  speak 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  47 

to  her.  He  was  interested  in  his  roses  (which,  she 
heard  afterward,  were  to  be  sent  to  town  to  an  in 
valid  friend),  and  as  she  drew  near,  he  turned  aside 
to  speak  to  the  gardener.  As  Emily  was  just  pass 
ing  him  when  he  turned  again,  and  as  the  passage 
was  narrow,  he  found  himself  unexpectedly  gazing 
into  her  face. 

Being  nearly  the  same  height,  they  were  so  near 
each  other  that  it  was  a  little  awkward. 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  he  said,  stepping  back  a  pace 
and  lifting  his  straw  hat. 

But  he  did  not  say,  "  I  beg  pardon,  Miss  Fox- 
Seton,"  and  Emily  knew  that  he  had  not  recognised 
her  again,  and  had  not  the  remotest  idea  who  she 
was  or  where  she  came  from. 

She  passed  him  with  her  agreeable,  friendly  smile, 
and  there  returned  to  her  mind  Lady  Maria's  re 
marks  of  the  night  before. 

"  To  think  that  if  he  married  poor  pretty  Lady 
Agatha  she  will  be  mistress  of  three  places  quite  as 
beautiful  as  Mallowe,  three  lovely  old  houses,  three 
sets  of  gardens,  with  thousands  of  flowers  to  bloom 
every  year!  How  nice  it  would  be  for  her!  She 
is  so  lovely  that  it  seems  as  if  he  must  fall  in  love 


48  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

with  her.  Then,  if  she  was  Marchioness  of  Wal- 
derhurst,  she  could  do  so  much  for  her  sisters." 

After  breakfast  she  spent  her  morning  in  doing 
a  hundred  things  for  Lady  Maria.  She  wrote  notes 
for  her,  and  helped  her  to  arrange  plans  for  the  en 
tertainment  of  her  visitors.  She  was  very  busy  and 
happy.  In  the  afternoon  she  drove  across  the  moor 
to  Maundell,  a  village  on  the  other  side  of  it.  She 
really  went  on  an  errand  for  her  hostess,  but  as  she 
was  fond  of  driving  and  the  brown  cob  was  a 
beauty,  she  felt  that  she  was  being  given  a  treat  on 
a  level  with  the  rest  of  her  ladyship's  generous  hos 
pitalities.  She  drove  well,  and  her  straight,  strong 
figure  showed  to  much  advantage  on  the  high  seat 
of  the  cart.  Lord  Walderhurst  himself  com 
mented  on  her  as  he  saw  her  drive  away. 

"  She  has  a  nice,  flat,  straight  back,  that  woman," 
he  remarked  to  Lady  Maria.  "  What  is  her  name  ? 
One  never  hears  people's  names  when  one  is  in 
troduced." 

"  Her  name  is  Emily  Fox-Seton,"  her  ladyship 
answered,  "  and  she's  a  nice  creature." 

''  That  would  be  an  inhuman  thing  to  say  to  most 
men,  but  if  one  is  a  thoroughly  selfish  being,  and 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  49 

has  some  knowledge  of  one's  own  character,  one 
sees  that  a  nice  creature  might  be  a  nice  companion." 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  was  Lady  Maria's  reply, 
as  she  held  up  her  lorgnette  and  watched  the  cart 
spin  down  the  avenue.  "  I  am  selfish  myself,  and 
I  realise  that  is  the  reason  why  Emily  Fox-Seton  is 
becoming  the  lodestar  of  my  existence.  There  is 
such  comfort  in  being  pandered  to  by  a  person  who 
is  not  even  aware  that  she  is  pandering.  She  doesn't 
suspect  that  she  is  entitled  to  thanks  for  it." 

That  evening  Mrs.  Ralph  came  shining  to  dinner 
in  amber  satin,  which  seemed  to  possess  some  quality 
of  stimulating  her  to  brilliance.  She  was  witty 
enough  to  collect  an  audience,  and  Lord  Walder- 
hurst  was  drawn  within  it.  This  was  Mrs.  Ralph's 
evening.  When  the  men  returned  to  the  drawing- 
room,  she  secured  his  lordship  at  once  and  managed 
to  keep  him.  She  was  a  woman  who  could  talk 
pretty  well,  and  perhaps  Lord  Walderhurst  was 
amused.  Emily  Fox-Seton  was  not  quite  sure  that 
he  was,  but  at  least  he  listened.  Lady  Agatha  Slade 
looked  a  little  listless  and  pale.  Lovely  as  she  was, 
she  did  not  always  collect  an  audience,  and  this 
evening  she  said  she  had  a  headache.  She  actually 


50  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

crossed  the  room,  and  taking  a  seat  by  Miss  Emily 
Fox-Seton,  began  to  talk  to  her  about  Lady  Maria's 
charity-knitting  which  she  had  taken  up.  Emily 
was  so  gratified  that  she  found  conversation  easy. 
She  did  not  realise  that  at  that  particular  moment 
she  was  a  most  agreeable  and  comforting  companion 
for  Agatha  Slade.  She  had  heard  so  much  of  her 
beauty  during  the  season,  and  remembered  so  many 
little  things  that  a  girl  who  was  a  thought  depressed 
might  like  to  hear  referred  to  again.  Sometimes  to 
Agatha  the  balls  where  people  had  collected  in. 
groups  to  watch  her  dancing,  the  flattering  speeches 
she  had  heard,  the  dazzling  hopes  which  had  been 
raised,  seemed  a  little  unreal,  as  if,  after  all,  they 
could  have  been  only  dreams.  This  was  particularly 
so,  of  course,  when  life  had  dulled  for  a  while  and 
the  atmosphere  of  unpaid  bills  became  heavy  at 
home.  It  was  so  to-day,  because  the  girl  had  re 
ceived  a  long,  anxious  letter  from  her  mother,  in 
which  much  was  said  of  the  importance  of  an  early 
preparation  for  the  presentation  of  Alix,  who  had 
really  been  kept  back  a  year,  and  was  in  fact  nearer 
twenty  than  nineteen. 

"  If  we  were  not  in  Debrett  and  Burke,  one 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  51 

might  be  reserved  about  such  matters,"  poor  Lady 
Claraway  wrote;  "but  what  is  one  to  'do  when  all 
the  world  can  buy  one's  daughters'  ages  at  the  book 
sellers'  ?  " 

Miss  Fox-Seton  had  seen  Lady  Agatha's  portrait 
at  the  Academy  and  the  way  in  which  people  had 
crowded  about  it.  She  had  chanced  to  hear  com 
ments  also,  and  she  agreed  with  a  number  of  persons 
who  had  not  thought  the  picture  did  the  original 
justice. 

"  Sir  Bruce  Norman  was  standing  by  me  with  an 
elderly  lady  the  first  time  I  saw  it,"  she  said,  as  she 
turned  a  new  row  of  the  big  white-wool  scarf  her 
hostess  was  knitting  for  a  Deep-Sea  Fisherman's 
Charity.  "  He  really  looked  quite  annoyed.  I 
heard  him  say:  '  It  is  not  good  at  all.  She  is  far, 
far  lovelier.  Her  eyes  are  like  blue  flowers.'  The 
moment  I  saw  you,  I  found  myself  looking  at  your 
eyes.  I  hope  I  didn't  seem  rude." 

Lady  Agatha  smiled.  She  had  flushed  delicately, 
and  took  up  in  her  slim  hand  a  skein  of  the  white 
wool. 

"  There  are  some  people  who  are  never  rude," 
she  sweetly  said,  "  and  you  are  one  of  them,  I  am 


52  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

sure.  That  knitting  looks  nice.  I  wonder  if  I 
could  make  a  comforter  for  a  deep-sea  fisherman." 

"  If  it  would  amuse  you  to  try,"  Emily  answered, 
"  I  will  begin  one  for  you.  Lady  Maria  has  sev 
eral  pairs  of  wooden  needles.  Shall  I  ?  " 

"  Do,  please.     How  kind  of  you!  " 

In  a  pause  of  her  conversation,  Mrs.  Ralph,  a 
little  later,  looked  across  the  room  at  Emily  Fox- 
Seton  bending  over  Lady  Agatha  and  the  knitting, 
as  she  gave  her  instructions. 

"  What  a  good-natured  creature  that  is !  "  she 
said. 

Lord  Walderhurst  lifted  his  monocle  and  in 
serted  it  in  his  unillumined  eye.  He  also  looked 
across  the  room.  Emily  wore  the  black  evening 
dress  which  gave  such  opportunities  to  her  square 
white  shoulders  and  firm  column  of  throat;  the 
country  air  and  sun  had  deepened  the  colour  on 
her  cheek,  and  the  light  of  the  nearest  lamp  fell 
kindly  on  the  big  twist  of  her  nut-brown  hair,  and 
burnished  it.  She  looked  soft  and  warm,  and  so 
generously  interested  in  her  pupil's  progress  that 
she  was  rather  sweet. 

Lord   Walderhurst   simply   looked    at   her.     He 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  53 

was  a  man  of  but  few  words.  Women  who  were 
sprightly  found  him  somewhat  unresponsive.  In 
fact,  he  was  aware  that  a  man  in  his  position  need 
not  exert  himself.  The  women  themselves  would 
talk.  They  wanted  to  talk  because  they  wanted 
him  to  hear  them. 

Mrs.  Ralph  talked. 

"  She  is  the  most  primeval  person  I  know.  She 
accepts  her  fate  without  a  trace  of  resentment;  she 
simply  accepts  it." 

"What  is  her  fate?"  asked  Lord  Walderhurst, 
still  gazing  in  his  unbiassed  manner  through  his 
monocle,  and  not  turning  his  head  as  he  spoke. 

"  It  is  her  fate  to  be  a  woman  who  is  perfectly 
well  born,  and  who  is  as  penniless  as  a  charwoman, 
and  works  like  one.  She  is  at  the  beck  and  call  of 
any  one  who  will  give  her  an  odd  job  to  earn  a  meal 
with.  That  is  one  of  the  new  ways  women  have 
found  of  making  a  living." 

"  Good  skin,"  remarked  Lord  Walderhurst,  ir 
relevantly.  "  Good  hair — quite  a  lot." 

"  She  has  some  of  the  nicest  blood  in  England 
in  her  veins,  and  she  engaged  my  last  cook  for  me," 
said  Mrs.  Ralph. 


54  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  Hope  she  was  a  good  cook." 

"  Very.  Emily  Fox-Seton  has  a  faculty  of  find 
ing  decent  people.  I  believe  it  is  because  she  is  so 
decent  herself " — with  a  little  laugh. 

"  Looks  quite  decent,"  commented  Walderhurst. 

The  knitting  was  getting  on  famously. 

"  It  was  odd  you  should  see  Sir  Bruce  Norman 
that  day,"  Agatha  Slade  was  saying.  "  It  must 
have  been  just  before  he  was  called  away  to  India." 

"  It  was.  He  sailed  the  next  day.  I  happen  to 
know,  because  some  friends  of  mine  met  me  only 
a  few  yards  from  your  picture  and  began  to  talk 
about  him.  I  had  not  known  before  that  he  was 
so  rich.  I  had  not  heard  about  his  collieries  in 
Lancashire.  Oh !  " — opening  her  big  eyes  in  heart 
felt  yearning, — "how  I  wish  I  owned  a  colliery  I 
It  must  be  so  nice  to  be  rich!  " 

"  I  never  was  rich,"  answered  Lady  Agatha,  with 
a  bitter  little  sigh.  "  I  know  it  is  hideous  to  be 
poor." 

"  /  never  was  rich,"  said  Emily,  "  and  I  never 
shall  be.  You " — a  little  shyly — "  are  so  differ 
ent." 

Lady  Agatha  flushed  delicately  again. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  55 

Emily  Fox-Seton  made  a  gentle  joke.  "  You 
have  eyes  like  blue  flowers,"  she  said. 

Lady  Agatha  lifted  the  eyes  like  blue  flowers,  and 
they  were  pathetic. 

"  Oh ! "  she  gave  forth  almost  impetuously, 
"  sometimes  it  seems  as  if  it  does  not  matter  whether 
one  has  eyes  or  not." 

It  was  a  pleasure  to  Emily  Fox-Seton  to  realise 
that  after  this  the  beauty  seemed  to  be  rather  drawn 
toward  her.  Their  acquaintance  became  almost  a 
sort  of  intimacy  over  the  wool  scarf  for  the  deep- 
sea  fisherman,  which  was  taken  up  and  laid  down, 
and  even  carried  out  on  the  lawyn  and  left  under  the 
trees  for  the  footmen  to  restore  when  they  brought 
in  the  rugs  and  cushions.  Lady  Maria  was  amus 
ing  herself  with  the  making  of  knitted  scarfs  and 
helmets  just  now,  and  bits  of  white  or  gray  knitting 
were  the  fashion  at  Mallowe.  Once  Agatha 
brought  hers  to  Emily's  room  in  the  afternoon  to 
ask  that  a  dropped  stitch  might  be  taken  up,  and 
this  established  a  sort  of  precedent.  Afterward 
they  began  to  exchange  visits. 

The  strenuousness  of  things  was  becoming,  in 
fact,  almost  too  much  for  Lady  Agatha.  Most  un- 


56  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

pleasant  things  were  happening  at  home,  and  oc 
casionally  Castle  Clare  loomed  up  grayly  in  the  dis 
tance  like  a  spectre.  Certain  tradespeople  who 
ought,  in  Lady  Claraway's  opinion,  to  have  kept 
quiet  and  waited  in  patience  until  things  became 
better,  were  becoming  hideously  persistent.  In  view 
of  the  fact  that  Alix's  next  season  must  be  provided 
for,  it  was  most  awkward.  A  girl  could  not  be  prer 
sented  and  properly  launched  in  the  world,  in  a 
way  which  would  give  her  a  proper  chance,  without 
expenditure.  To  the  Claraways  expenditure  meant 
credit,  and  there  were  blots  as  of  tears  on  the  letters 
in  which  Lady  Claraway  reiterated  that  the  trades 
people  were  behaving  horribly.  Sometimes,  she 
said  once  in  desperation,  things  looked  as  if  they 
would  all  be  obliged  to  shut  themselves  up  in  Castle 
Clare  to  retrench;  and  then  what  was  to  become  of 
Alix  and  her  season?  And  there  were  Millicent 
and  Hilda  and  Eve. 

More  than  once  there  was  the  mist  of  tears  in  the 
flower-blue  eyes  when  Lady  Agatha  came  to  talk. 
Confidence  between  two  women  establishes  itself 
through  processes  at  once  subtle  and  simple.  Emily 
Fox-Seton  could  not  have  told  when  she  first  began 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  57 

to  know  that  the  beauty  was  troubled  and  dis 
tressed;  Lady  Agatha  did  not  know  when  she  first 
slipped  into  making  little  frank  speeches  about  her 
self;  but  these  things  came  about.  Agatha  found 
something  like  comfort  in  her  acquaintance  with  the 
big,  normal,  artless  creature — something  which  ac 
tually  raised  her  spirits  when  she  was  depressed. 
Emily  Fox-Seton  paid  constant  kindly  tribute  to 
her  charms,  and  helped  her  to  believe  in  them. 
When  she  was  with  her,  Agatha  always  felt  that 
she  really  was  lovely,  after  all,  and  that  loveliness 
was  a  great  capital.  Emily  admired  and  revered 
it  so,  and  evidently  never  dreamed  of  doubting  its 
omnipotence.  She  used  to  talk  as  if  any  girl  who 
was  a  beauty  was  a  potential  duchess.  In  fact,  this 
was  a  thing  she  quite  ingenuously  believed.  She  had 
not  lived  in  a  world  where  marriage  was  a  thing  of 
romance,  and,  for  that  matter,  neither  had  Agatha. 
It  was  nice  if  a  girl  liked  the  man  who  married  her, 
but  if  he  was  a  well-behaved,  agreeable  person,  of 
good  means,  it  was  natural  that-  she  would  end  by 
liking  him  sufficiently;  and  to  be  provided  for  com 
fortably  or  luxuriously  for  life,  and  not  left  upon 
one's  own  hands  or  one's  parents',  was  a  thing  to  be 


58  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

thankful  for  in  any  case.  It  was  such  a  relief  to 
everybody  to  know  that  a  girl  was  "  settled,"  and 
especially  it  was  such  a  relief  to  the  girl  herself. 
Even  novels  and  plays  were  no  longer  fairy-stories 
of  entrancing  young  men  and  captivating  young 
women  who  fell  in  love  with  each  other  in  the  first 
chapter,  and  after  increasingly  picturesque  incidents 
were  married  in  the  last  one  in  the  absolute  surety 
of  being  blissfully  happy  forevermore.  Neither 
Lady  Agatha  nor  Emily  had  been  brought  up  on 
this  order  of  literature,  nor  in  an  atmosphere  in 
\vhich  it  was  accepted  without  reservation. 

They  had  both  had  hard  lives,  and  knew  what 
lay  before  them.  Agatha  knew  she  must  make  a 
marriage  or  fade  out  of  existence  in  prosaic  and  nar 
rowed  dulness.  Emily  knew  that  there  was  no 
prospect  for  her  of  desirable  marriage  at  all.  She 
was  too  poor,  too  entirely  unsupported  by  social 
surroundings,  and  not  sufficiently  radiant  to  catch 
the  roving  eye.  To  be  able  to  maintain  herself  de 
cently,  to  be  given  an  occasional  treat  by  her  more 
fortunate  friends,  and  to  be  allowed  by  fortune  to 
present  to  the  face  of  the  world  the  appearance  of  a 
woman  who  was  not  a  pauper,  was  all  she  could  ex- 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  59 

pect.  But  she  felt  that  Lady  Agatha  had  the  right 
to  more.  She  did  not  reason  the  matter  out  and 
ask  herself  why  she  had  the  right  to  more,  but  she 
accepted  the  proposition  as  a  fact.  She  was  in 
genuously  interested  in  her  fate,  and  affectionately 
sympathetic.  She  used  to  look  at  Lord  Walder- 
hurst  quite  anxiously  at  times  when  he  was  talking 
to  the  girl.  An  anxious  mother  could  scarcely  have 
regarded  him  with  a  greater  desire  to  analyse  his 
sentiments.  The  match  would  be  such  a  fitting 
one.  He  would  make  such  an  excellent  husband — 
and  there  were  three  places,  and  the  diamonds  were 
magnificent.  Lady  Maria  had  described  to  her  a 
certain  tiara  which  she  frequently  pictured  to  her 
self  as  glittering  above  Agatha's  exquisite  low  brow. 
It  would  be  infinitely  more  becoming  to  her  than  to 
Miss  Brooke  or  Mrs.  Ralph,  though  either  of  them 
would  have  worn  it  with  spirit.  She  could  not  help 
feeling  that  both  Mrs.  Ralph's  brilliancy  and  Miss 
Brooke's  insouciant  prettiness  were  not  unworthy 
of  being  counted  in  the  running,  but  Lady  Agatha 
seemed  somehow  so  much  more  completely  the  thing 
wanted.  She  was  anxious  that  she  should  always 
look  her  best,  and  when  she  knew  that  disturbing 


60  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

letters  were  fretting  her,  and  saw  that  they  made 
her  look  pale  and  less  luminous,  she  tried  to  raise 
her  spirits. 

"  Suppose  we  take  a  brisk  walk,"  she  would  say, 
"  and  then  you  might  try  a  little  nap.  You  look  a 
little  tired." 

"  Oh,"  said  Agatha  one  day,  "  how  kind  you  are 
to  me!  I  believe  you  actually  care  about  my  com 
plexion — about  my  looking  well." 

"  Lord  Walderhurst  said  to  me  the  other  day," 
was  Emily's  angelically  tactful  answer,  "  that  you 
were  the  only  woman  he  had  ever  seen  who  always. 
looked  lovely." 

"Did  he?"  exclaimed  Lady  Agatha,  and  flushed 
sweetly.  "  Once  Sir  Bruce  Norman  actually  said 
that  to  me.  I  told  him  it  was  the  nicest  thing  that 
could  be  said  to  a  woman.  It  is  all  the  nicer  " — • 
with  a  sigh — "  because  it  isn't  really  true." 

"  I  am  sure  Lord  Walderhurst  believed  it  true," 
Emily  said.  "  He  is  not  a  man  who  talks,  you 
know.  He  is  very  serious  and  dignified." 

She  had  herself  a  reverence  and  admiration  for 
Lord  Walderhurst  bordering  on  tender  awe.  He 
was  indeed  a  well-mannered  person,  of  whom  pain* 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  61 

ful  things  were  not  said.  He  also  conducted  him 
self  well  toward  his  tenantry,  and  was  patron  of 
several  notable  charities.  To  the  unexacting  and 
innocently  respectful  mind  of  Emily  Fox-Seton 
this  was  at  once  impressive  and  attractive.  She 
knew,  though  not  intimately,  many  noble  person 
ages  quite  unlike  him.  She  was  rather  early  Vic 
torian  and  touchingly  respectable. 

"  I  have  been  crying,"  confessed  Lady  Agatha. 

"  I  was  afraid  so,  Lady  Agatha,"  said  Emily. 

"  Things  are  getting  hopeless  in  Curzon  Street. 
I  had  a  letter  from  Millicent  this  morning.  She  ig 
next  in  age  to  Alix,  and  she  says — oh,  a  number  of 
things.  When  girls  see  everything  passing  by  them, 
it  makes  them  irritable.  Millicent  is  seventeen, 
and  she  is  too  lovely.  Her  hair  is  like  a  red-gold 
cloak,  and  her  eyelashes  are  twice  as  long  as  mine." 
She  sighed  again,  and  her  lips,  which  were  like 
curved  rose-petals,  unconcealedly  quivered.  "  They 
were  all  so  cross  about  Sir  Bruce  Norman  going 
to  India,"  she  added. 

"  He  will  come  back,"  said  Emily,  benignly; 
"  but  he  may  be  too  late.  Has  he  " — ingenuously 
—"seen  Alix?" 


62  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Agatha  flushed  oddly  this  time.  Her  delicate 
skin  registered  every  emotion  exquisitely.  "  He  has 
seen  her,  but  she  was  in  the  school-room,  and — I 
don't  think " 

She  did  not  finish,  but  stopped  uneasily,  and  sat 
and  gazed  out  of  the  open  window  into  the  park. 
She  did  not  look  happy. 

The  episode  of  Sir  Bruce  Norman  was  brief  and 
even  vague.  It  had  begun  well.  Sir  Bruce  had 
met  the  beauty  at  a  ball,  and  they  had  danced  to 
gether  more  than  once.  Sir  Bruce  had  attractions 
other  than  his  old  baronetcy  and  his  coal-mines.  He 
was  a  good-looking  person,  with  a  laughing  brown 
eye  and  a  nice  wit.  He  had  danced  charmingly  and 
paid  gay  compliments.  He  would  have  done  im 
mensely  well.  Agatha  had  liked  him.  Emily  some 
times  thought  she  had  liked  him  very  much.  Her 
mother  had  liked  him  and  had  thought  he  was  at 
tracted.  But  after  a  number  of  occasions  of  agree 
able  meetings,  they  had  encountered  each  other  on 
the  lawn  at  Goodwood,  and  he  had  announced  that 
he  was  going  to  India.  Forthwith  he  had  gone, 
and  Emily  had  gathered  that  somehow  Lady  Aga 
tha  had  been  considered  somewhat  to  blame.  Her 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  63 

people  were  not  vulgar  enough  to  express  this 
frankly,  but  she  had  felt  it.  Her  younger  sisters 
had,  upon  the  whole,  made  her  feel  it  most.  It 
had  been  borne  in  upon  her  that  if  Alix,  or  Millicent 
with  the  red-gold  cloak,  or  even  Eve,  who  was  a 
gipsy,  had  been  given  such  a  season  and  such  Doucet 
frocks,  they  would  have  combined  them  with  their 
wonderful  complexions  and  lovely  little  chins  and 
noses  in  such  a  manner  as  would  at  least  have  pre 
vented  desirable  acquaintances  from  feeling  free  to 
take  P.  and  O.  steamers  to  Bombay. 

In  her  letter  of  this  morning,  Millicent's  temper 
had  indeed  got  somewhat  the  better  of  her  taste  and 
breeding,  and  lovely  Agatha  had  cried  large  tears. 
So  it  was  comforting  to  be  told  that  Lord  Walder- 
hurst  had  said  such  an  extremely  amiable  thing.  If 
he  was  not  young,  he  was  really  very  nice,  and  there 
were  exalted  persons  who  absolutely  had  rather  a 
fad  for  him.  It  would  be  exceptionally  brilliant. 

The  brisk  walk  was  taken,  and  Lady  Agatha  re 
turned  from  it  blooming.  She  was  adorable  at  din 
ner,  and  in  the  evening  gathered  an  actual  court 
about  her.  She  was  all  in  pink,  and  a  wreath  of 
little  pink  wild  roses  lay  close  about  her  head,  mak- 


64  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

ing  her,  with  her  tall  young  slimness,  look  like  a 
Botticelli  nymph.  Emily  saw  that  Lord  Walder- 
Imrst  looked  at  her  a  great  deal.  He  sat  on  an 
extraordinarily  comfortable  corner  seat,  and  stared 
through  his  monocle. 

Lady  Maria  always  gave  her  Emily  plenty  to  do. 
She  had  a  nice  taste  in  floral  arrangement,  and  early 
in  her  visit  it  had  fallen  into  her  hands  as  a  duty  to 
"  do  "  the  flowers. 

The  next  morning  she  was  in  the  gardens  early, 
gathering  roses  with  the  dew  on  them,  and  was  in 
the  act  of  cutting  some  adorable  "  Mrs.  Sharman 
Crawfords,"  when  she  found  it  behoved  her  to  let 
down  her  carefully  tucked  up  petticoats,  as  the  Mar 
quis  of  Walderhurst  was  walking  straight  toward 
her.  An  instinct  told  her  that  he  wanted  to  talk 
to  her  about  Lady  Agatha  Slade. 

"You  get  up  earlier  than  Lady  Agatha,"  he  re 
marked,  after  he  had  wished  her  "  Good-morning." 

"  She  is  oftener  invited  to  the  country  than  I 
am,"  she  answered.  "  When  I  have  a  country  holi 
day,  I  want  to  spend  every  moment  of  it  out  of 
doors.  And  the  mornings  are  so  lovely.  They  are 
not  like  this  in  Mortimer  Street." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  65 

"Do  you  live  in  Mortimer  Street?" 

"  Yes." 

"Do  you  like  it?" 

"  I  am  very  comfortable.  I  am  fortunate  in  hav 
ing  a  nice  landlady.  She  and  her  'daughter  are  very 
kind  to  me." 

The  morning  was  indeed  heavenly.  The  masses 
of  flowers  were  drenched  with  dew,  and  the  already 
hot  sun  was  drawing  fragrance  from  them  and  rill 
ing  the  warm  air  with  it.  The  marquis,  with  his 
monocle  fixed,  looked  up  into  the  cobalt-blue  sky 
and  among  the  trees,  where  a  wood-dove  or  two 
cooed  with  musical  softness. 

"  Yes,"  he  observed,  with  a  glance  which  swept 
the  scene,  "  it  is  different  from  Mortimer  Street,  I 
suppose.  Are  you  fond  of  the  country?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  sighed  Emily;  "  oh,  yes!  " 

She  was  not  a  specially  articulate  person.  She 
could  not  have  conveyed  in  words  all  that  her  "  Oh, 
yes!  "  really  meant  of  simple  love  for  and  joy  in 
rural  sights  and  sounds  and  scents.  But  when  she 
lifted  her  big  kind  hazel  eyes  to  him,  the  earnestness 
of  her  emotion  made  them  pathetic,  as  the  unspeak- 
ableness  of  her  pleasures  often  did. 


66  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Lord  Walderhurst  gazed  at  her  through  the 
monocle  with  an  air  he  sometimes  had  of  taking 
her  measure  without  either  unkindliness  or  particu 
lar  interest. 

"Is  Lady  Agatha  fond  of  the  country?  "  he  in 
quired. 

"  She  is  fond  of  everything  that  is  beautiful,"  she 
replied.  "  Her  nature  is  as  lovely  as  her  face,  I 
think." 

"Is  it?" 

Emily  walked  a  step  or  two  away  to  a  rose  climb 
ing  up  the  gray-red  wall,  and  began  to  clip  off 
blossoms,  which  tumbled  sweetly  into  her  basket. 

"  She  seems  lovely  in  everything,"  she  said,  "  in 
disposition  and  manner  and — everything.  She 
never  seems  to  disappoint  one  or  make  mistakes." 

"You  are  fond  of  her?" 

"  She  has  been  so  kind  to  me." 

"  You  often  say  people  are  kind  to  you." 

Emily  paused  and  felt  a  trifle  confused.  Realis 
ing  that  she  was  not  a  clever  person,  and  being  a 
modest  one,  she  began  to  wonder  if  she  was  given 
to  a  parrot-phrase  which  made  her  tiresome.  She 
blushed  up  to  her  ears. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  67 

"  People  are  kind,"  she  said  hesitatingly.  "  I — 
you  see,  I  have  nothing  to  give,  and  I  always  seem 
to  be  receiving." 

"  What  luck !  "  remarked  his  lordship,  calmly 
gazing  at  her. 

He  made  her  feel  rather  awkward,  and  she  was 
at  once  relieved  and  sorry  when  he  walked  away  to 
join  another  early  riser  who  had  come  out  upon  the 
lawn.  For  some  mysterious  reason  Emily  Fox- 
Seton  liked  him.  Perhaps  his  magnificence  and  the 
constant  talk  she  had  heard  of  him  had  warmed  her 
imagination.  He  had  never  said  anything  particu 
larly  intelligent  to  her,  but  she  felt  as  if  he  had. 
He  was  a  rather  silent  man,  but  never  looked  stupid. 
He  had  made  some  good  speeches  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  not  brilliant,  but  sound  and  of  a  dignified 
respectability.  He  had  also  written  two  pamphlets. 
Emily  had  an  enormous  respect  for  intellect,  arid 
frequently,  it  must  be  admitted,  for  the  thing  which 
passed  for  it.  She  was  not  exacting. 

During  her  stay  at  Mallowe  in  the  summer,  Lady 
Maria  always  gave  a  village  treat.  She  had  given 
it  for  forty  years,  and  it  was  a  lively  function. 
Several  hundred  wildly  joyous  village  children  were 


68  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

fed  to  repletion  with  exhilarating  buns  and  cake,  and 
tea  in  mugs,  after  which  they  ran  races  for  prizes, 
and  were  entertained  in  various  ways,  with  the  aid 
of  such  of  the  house-party  as  were  benevolently  in 
clined  to  make  themselves  useful. 

Everybody  was  not  so  inclined,  though  people  al 
ways  thought  the  thing  amusing.  Nobody  objected 
to  looking  on,  and  some  were  agreeably  stimulated 
by  the  general  sense  of  festivity.  But  Emily  Fox- 
Seton  was  found  by  Lady  Maria  to  be  invaluable 
on  this  occasion.  It  was  so  easy,  without  the  least 
sense  of  ill-feeling,  to  give  her  all  the  drudgery  to 
do.  There  was  plenty  of  drudgery,  though  it  did 
not  present  itself  to  Emily  Fox-Seton  in  that  light. 
She  no  more  realised  that  she  was  giving  Lady 
Maria  a  good  deal  for  her  money,  so-to  speak,  than 
she  realised  that  her  ladyship,  though  an  amusing 
and  delightful,  was  an  absolutely  selfish  and  incon 
siderate  old  woman.  So  long  as  Emily  Fox-Seton 
did  not  seem  obviously  tired,  it  would  not  have  oc 
curred  to  Lady  Maria  that  she  could  be  so;  that, 
after  all,  her  legs  and  arms  were  mere  human  flesh 
and  blood,  that  her  substantial  feet  were  subject  to 
the  fatigue  unending  trudging  to  and  fro  induces. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  69 

Her  ladyship  was  simply  delighted  that  the  prepara 
tions  went  so  well,  that  she  could  turn  to  Emily 
for  service  and  always  find  her  ready.  Emily  made 
lists  and  calculations,  she  worked  out  plans  and 
made  purchases.  She  interviewed  the  village  ma 
trons  who  made  the  cake  and  buns,  and  boiled  the 
tea  in  bags  in  a  copper;  she  found  the  women  who 
could  be  engaged  to  assist  in  cutting  cake  and 
bread-and-butter  and  helping  to  serve  it ;  she  ordered 
the  putting  up  of  tents  and  forms  and  tables;  the 
innumerable  things  to  be  remembered  she  called  to 
mind. 

"Really,  Emily,"  said  Lady  Maria,  "I  don't 
know  how  I  have  done  this  thing  for  forty  years 
without  you.  I  must  always  have  you  at  Mallowe 
for  the  treat." 

Emily  was  of  the  genial  nature  which  rejoices 
upon  even  small  occasions,  and  is  invariably  stimu 
lated  to  pleasure  by  the  festivities  of  others.  The 
festal  atmosphere  was  a  delight  to  her.  In  her 
numberless  errands  to  the  village,  the  sight  of  the 
excitement  in  the  faces  of  the  children  she  passed 
on  her  way  to  this  cottage  and  that  filled  her  eyes 
with  friendly  glee  and  wreathed  her  face  with 


70  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

smiles.  When  she  went  into  the  cottage  where  the 
cake  was  being  baked,  children  hovered  about  in 
groups  and  nudged  each  other,  giggling.  They 
hung  about,  partly  through  thrilled  interest,  and 
partly  because  their  joy  made  them  eager  to  courtesy 
to  her  as  she  came  out,  the  obeisance  seeming  to 
identify  them  even  more  closely  with  the  coming 
treat.  They  grinned  and  beamed  rosily,  and  Emily 
smiled  at  them  and  nodded,  uplifted  by  a  pleasure 
almost  as  infantile  as  their  own.  She  was  really 
enjoying  herself  so  honestly  that  she  did  not  realise 
how  hard  she  worked  during  the  days  before  the 
festivity.  She  was  really  ingenious,  and  invented  a 
number  of  new  methods  of  entertainment.  It  was 
she  who,  with-  the  aid  of  a  couple  of  gardeners, 
transformed  the  tents  into  bowers  of  green  boughs 
and  arranged  the  decorations  of  the  tables  and  the 
park  gates. 

"  What  a  lot  of  walking  you  'do !  "  Lord  Wal- 
derhurst  said  to  her  once,  as  she  passed  the  group 
on  the  lawn.  "  Do  you  know  how  many  hours 
you  have  been  on  your  feet  to-day?  " 

"  I  like  it,"  she  answered,  and,  as  she  hurried  by, 
she  saw  that  he  was  sitting  a  shade  nearer  to  Lady 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  71 

Agatha  than  she  had  ever  seen  him  sit  before,  and 
that  Agatha,  under  a  large  hat  of  white  gauze 
frills,  was  looking  like  a  seraph,  so  sweet  and  shin 
ing  were  her  eyes,  so  flower-fair  her  face.  She 
looked  actually  happy. 

"  Perhaps  he  has  been  saying  things,"  Emily 
thought.  "  How  happy  she  will  be !  He  has  such 
a  nice  pair  of  eyes.  He  would  make  a  woman  very 
happy."  A  faint  sigh  fluttered  from  her  lips.  She 
was  beginning  to  be  physically  tired,  and  was  not 
yet  quite  aware  of  it.  If  she  had  not  been  physically 
tired,  she  would  not  even  vaguely  have  had,  at  this 
moment,  recalled  to  her  mind  the  fact  that  she  was 
not  of  the  women  to  whom  "  things  "  are  said  and 
to  whom  things  happen. 

"  Emily  Fox-Seton,"  remarked  Lady  Maria,  fan 
ning  herself,  as  it  was  frightfully  hot,  "  has  the 
most  admirable  effect  on  me.  She  makes  me  feel 
generous.  I  should  like  to  present  her  with  the 
smartest  things  from  the  wardrobes  of  all  my  rela 
tions." 

"  Do  you  give  her  clothes?  "  asked  Walderhurst. 

"  I  haven't  any  to  spare.  But  I  know  they 
would  be  useful  to  her.  The  things  she  wears  are 


72  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

touching;  they  are  so  well  contrived,  and  produce 
such  a  decent  effect  with  so  little." 

Lord  Walderhurst  inserted  his  monocle  and  gazed 
after  the  straight,  well-set-up  back  of  the  disappear 
ing  Miss  Fox-Seton. 

"  I  think,"  said  Lady  Agatha,  gently,  "  that  she  is 
really  handsome." 

"  So  she  is,"  admitted  Walderhurst — "  quite  a 
good-looking  woman." 

•  That  night  Lady  Agatha  repeated  the  amiability 
to  Emily,  whose  grateful  amazement  really  made 
her  blush. 

"  Lord  Walderhurst  knows  Sir  Bruce  Norman," 
said  Agatha.  "  Isn't  it  strange?  He  spoke  of  him 
to  me  to-day.  He  says  he  is  clever." 

"  You  had  a  nice  talk  this  afternoon,  hadn't 
you?"  said  Emily.  "You  both  looked  so — so — as 
if  you  were  enjoying  yourselves  when  I  passed." 

"Did  he  look  as  if  he  were  enjoying  himself? 
He  was  very  agreeable.  I  did  not  know  he  could 
be  so  agreeable." 

"  I  have  never  seen  him  look  as  much  pleased," 
answered  Emily  Fox-Seton.  "  Though  he  always 
looks  as  if  he  liked  talking  to  you,  Lady  Agatha. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  73 

That  large  white  gauze  garden-hat  " — reflectively — 
"  is  so  very  becoming." 

"  It  was  very  expensive,"  sighed  lovely  Agatha. 
"  And  they  last  such  a  short  time.  Mamma  said 
it  really  seemed  almost  criminal  to  buy  it." 

"  How  delightful  it  will  be,"  remarked  cheering 
Emily,  "  when — when  you  need  not  think  of  things 
like  that!" 

"Oh!" — with  another  sigh,  this  time  a  catch 
of  the  breath, — "it  would  be  like  Heaven!  Peo 
ple  don't  know;  they  think  girls  are  frivolous  when 
they  care,  and  that  it  isn't  serious.  But  when  one 
knows  one  must  have  things, — that  they  are  like 
bread, — it  is  awful !  " 

"  The  things  you  wear  really  matter."  Emily 
was  bringing  all  her  powers  to  bear  upon  the  sub 
ject,  and  with  an  anxious  kindness  which  was  quite 
angelic.  "  Each  dress  makes  you  look  like  another 
sort  of  picture.  Have  you," — contemplatively — 
"  anything  quite  different  to  wear  to-night  and  to 
morrow  ?  " 

"  I  have  two  evening  dresses  I  have  not  worn 
here  yet  " — a  little  hesitatingly.  "  I — well  I  saved 
them.  One  is  a  very  thin  black  one  with  silver  on 


74  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

it.  It  has  a  trembling  silver  butterfly  for  the 
shoulder,  and  one  for  the  hair." 

"  Oh,  put  that  on  to-night!  "  said  Emily,  eagerly. 
"  When  you  come  down  to  dinner  you  will 
look  so — so  new!  I  always  think  that  to  see  a 
fair  person  suddenly  for  the  first  time 
all  in  black  gives  one  a  kind  of  delighted  start 
1 — though  start  isn't  the  word,  quite.  Do  put  it 
on." 

Lady  Agatha  put  it  on.  Emily  Fox-Seton  came 
into  her  room  to  help  to  add  the  last  touches  to 
her  beauty  before  she  went  down  to  dinner.  She 
suggested  that  the  fair  hair  should  be  dressed  even 
higher  and  more  lightly  than  usual,  so  that  the 
silver  butterfly  should  poise  the  more  airily  over 
the  knot,  with  its  quivering,  outstretched  wings. 
She  herself  poised  the  butterfly  high  upon  the 
shoulder. 

"  Oh,  it  is  lovely ! "  she  exclaimed,  drawing  back 
to  gaze  at  the  girl.  "  Do  let  me  go  down  a  mo 
ment  or  so  before  you  do,  so  that  I  can  see  you 
come  into  the  room." 

She  was  sitting  in  a  chair  quite  near  Lord  Wal- 
derhurst  when  her  charge  entered.  She  saw  him 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  75 

really  give  something  quite  like  a  start  when  Aga 
tha  appeared.  His  monocle,  which  had  been  in  his 
eye,  fell  out  of  it,  and  he  picked  it  up  by  its  thin 
cord  and  replaced  it. 

"Psyche!"  she  heard  him  say  in  his  odd  voice, 
which  seemed  merely  to  make  a  statement  without 
committing  him  to  an  opinion — "  Psyche!" 

He  did  not  say  it  to  her  or  to  any  one  else.  It 
was  simply  a  kind  of  exclamation, — appreciative  and 
perceptive  without  being  enthusiastic, — and  it  was 
curious.  He  talked  to  Agatha  nearly  all  the  even 
ing. 

Emily  came  to  Lady  Agatha  before  she  retired, 
looking  even  a  little  flushed. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  wear  at  the  treat  to 
morrow?  "  she  asked. 

"  A  white  muslin,  with  entre-deux  of  lace,  and 
the  gauze  garden-hat,  and  a  white  parasol  and 
shoes." 

Lady  Agatha  looked  a  little  nervous;  her  pink 
fluttered  in  her  cheek. 

"  And  to-morrow  night?  "  said  Emily. 

"  I  have  a  very  pale  blue.  Won't  you  sit  down, 
dear  Miss  Fox-Seton?" 


76  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  We  must  both  go  to  bed  and  sleep.  You  must 
not  get  tired." 

But  she  sat  down  for  a  few  minutes,  because  she 
saw  the  girl's  eyes  asking  her  to  do  it. 

The  afternoon  post  had  brought  a  more  than 
usually  depressing  letter  from  Curzon  Street.  Lady 
Claraway  was  at  her  motherly  wits'  ends,  and  was 
really  quite  touching  in  her  distraction.  A  dress 
maker  was  entering  a  suit.  The  thing  would  get 
into  the  papers,  of  course. 

"  Unless  something  happens,  something  to  save 
us  by  staving  off  things,  we  shall  have  to  go  to 
Castle  Clare  at  once.  It  will  be  all  over.  No  girl 
could  be  presented  with  such  a  thing  in  the  air. 
They  don't  like  it." 

"  They,"  of  course,  meant  persons  whose  opinions 
made  London's  society's  law. 

"  To  go  to  Castle  Clare,"  faltered  Agatha,  "  will 
be  like  being  sentenced  to  starve  to  death.  Alix 
and  Hilda  and  Millicent  and  Eve  and  I  will  be 
starved,  quite  slowly,  for  the  want  of  the  things 
that  make  girls'  lives  bearable  when  they  have  been 
born  in  a  certain  class.  And  even  if  the  most 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  77 

splendid  thing  happened  in  three  or  four  years,  it 
would  be  too  late  for  us  four — almost  too  late  for 
Eve.  If  you  are  out  of  London,  of  course  you  are 
forgotten.  People  can't  help  forgetting.  Why 
shouldn't  they,  when  there  are  such  crowds  of  new 
girls  every  year?  " 

Emily  Fox-Seton  was  sweet.  She  was  quite  sure 
that  they  would  not  be  obliged  to  go  to  Castle 
Clare.  Without  being  indelicate,  she  was  really 
able  to  bring  hope  to  the  fore.  She  said  a  good 
deal  of  the  black  gauze  dress  and  the  lovely  effect 
of  the  silver  butterflies. 

"  I  suppose  it  was  the  butterflies  which  made  Lord 
Walderhurst  say  '  Psyche !  Psyche !  '  when  he  first 
saw  you,"  she  added,  en  passant. 

"Did  he  say  that?"  And  immediately  Lady 
Agatha  looked  as  if  she  had  not  intended  to  say  the 
words. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Emily,  hurrying  on  with  a 
casual  air  which  had  a  good  deal  of  tact  in  it. 
"  And  black  makes  you  so  wonderfully  fair  and 
aerial.  You  scarcely  look  quite  real  in  it ;  you 
might  float  away.  But  you  must  go  to  sleep  now." 


78  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Lady  Agatha  went  with  her  to  the  door  of  the 
room  to  bid  her  good-night.  Her  eyes  looked  like 
those  of  a  child  who  might  presently  cry  a  little. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Fox-Seton,"  she  said,  in  a  very  young 
yoke,  "  you  are  so  kind !  " 


HE  parts  of  the  park  near 
est  to  the  house  already 
presented  a  busy  aspect 
when  Miss  Fox-Seton 
passed  through  the  gar 
dens  the  following  morn 
ing.  Tables  were  being 
put  up,  and  baskets  of  bread  and  cake  and  groceries 
\vere  being  carried  into  the  tent  where  the  tea  was 
to  be  prepared.  The  workers  looked  interested  and 
good-humoured ;  the  men  touched  their  hats  as 
Emily  appeared,  and  the  women  courtesied  smil 
ingly.  They  had  all  discovered  that  she  was 
amiable  and  to  be  relied  on  in  her  capacity  of  her 
ladyship's  representative. 

"  She's  a  worker,  that  Miss  Fox-Seton,"  one  said 
79 


8o  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

to  the  other.  "  I  never  seen  one  that  was  a  lady 
fall  to  as  she  does.  Ladies,  even  when  they  means 
well,  has  a  way  of  standing  about  and  telling  you 
to  do  things  without  seeming  to  know  quite  how 
they  ought  to  be  done.  She's  coming  to  help  with 
the  bread-and-butter-cutting  herself  this  morning, 
and  she  put  up  all  them  packages  of  sweets  yester 
day  with  her  own  hands.  She  did  'em  up  in  differ 
ent-coloured  papers,  and  tied  'em  with  bits  of  rib 
bon,  because  she  said  she  knowed  children  was 
prouder  of  coloured  things  than  plain — they  was 
like  that.  And  so  they  are:  a  bit  of  red  or  blue  goes 
a  long  way  with  a  child." 

Emily  cut  bread-and-butter  and  cake,  and  placed 
seats  and  arranged  toys  on  tables  all  the  morning. 
The  day  was  hot,  though  beautiful,  and  she  was  so 
busy  that  she  had  scarcely  time  for  her  breakfast. 
The  household  party  was  in  the  gayest  spirits.  Lady 
Maria  was  in  her  most  amusing  mood.  She  had 
planned  a  'drive  to  some  interesting  ruins  for  the 
afternoon  of  the  next  day,  and  a  dinner-party  for 
the  evening.  Her  favourite  neighbours  had  just  re 
turned  to  their  country-seat  five  miles  away,  and 
they  were  coming  to  the  dinner,  to  her  great  satis- 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  81 

faction.  Most  of  her  neighbours  bored  her,  and 
she  took  them  in  doses  at  her  dinners,  as  she  would 
have  taken  medicine.  But  the  Lockyers  were  young 
and  good-looking  and  clever,  and  she  was  always 
glad  when  they  came  to  Loche  during  her  stay  at 
Mallowe. 

"  There  is  not  a  frump  or  a  bore  among  them," 
she  said.  "  In  the  country  people  are  usually 
frumps  when  they  are  not  bores,  and  bores  when 
they  are  not  frumps,  and  I  am  in  danger  of  becom 
ing  both  myself.  Six  weeks  of  unalloyed  dinner 
parties,  composed  of  certain  people  I  know,  would 
make  me  begin  to  wear  moreen  petticoats  and  talk 
about  the  deplorable  condition  of  London  society." 

She  led  all  her  flock  out  on  to  the  lawn  under 
the  ilex-trees  after  breakfast. 

"  Let  us  go  and  encourage  industry,"  she  said. 
"  We  will  watch  Emily  Fox-Seton  working.  She 
is  an  example." 

Curiously  enough,  this  was  Miss  Cora  Brooke's 
day.  She  found  herself  actually  walking  across  the 
lawn  with  Lord  Walderhurst  by  her  side.  She 
did  not  know  how  it  happened,  but  it  seemed  to  oc 
cur  accidentally. 


82  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  We  never  talk  to  each  other,"  he  said. 

"  Well,"  answered  Cora,  "  we  have  talked  to 
other  people  a  great  deal — at  least  I  have." 

"  Yes,  you  have  talked  a  good  deal,"  said  the  mar 
quis. 

"  Does  that  mean  I  have  talked  too  much  ?  " 

He  surveyed  her  prettiness  through  his  glass. 
Perhaps  the  holiday  stir  in  the  air  gave  him  a  fes 
tive  moment. 

"  It  means  that  you  haven't  talked  enough  to 
me.  You  have  devoted  yourself  too  much  to  the 
laying  low  of  young  Heriot." 

She  laughed  a  trifle  saucily. 

"  You  are  a  very  independent  young  lady,"  re 
marked  Walderhurst,  with  a  lighter  manner  than 
usual.  "  You  ought  to  say  something  deprecatory 
or — a  little  coy,  perhaps." 

"  I  shan't,"  said  Cora,  composedly. 

"Shan't  or  won't?"  he  inquired.  "They  are 
both  bad  words  for  little  girls — or  young  ladies — - 
to  use  to  their  elders." 

"  Both,"  said  Miss  Cora  Brooke,  with  a  slightly, 
pleased  flush.  "  Let  us  go  over  to  the  tents  and  see 
what  poor  Emily  Fox-Seton  is  doing." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  83 

"  Poor  Emily  Fox-Seton,"  said  the  marquis,  non- 
committally. 

They  went,  but  they  did  not  stay  long.  The  treat 
was  taking  form.  Emily  Fox-Seton  \vas  hot  and 
deeply  engaged.  People  were  coming  to  her  for 
orders.  She  had  a  thousand  things  to  do  and  to 
superintend  the  doing  of.  The  prizes  for  the  races 
and  the  presents  for  the  children  must  be  arranged 
in  order:  things  for  boys  and  things  for  girls,  pres 
ents  for  little  children  and  presents  for  big  ones, 
Nobody  must  be  missed,  and  no  one  must  be  given 
the  wrong  thing. 

"  It  would  be  dreadful,  you  know,"  Emily  said 
to  the  two  when  they  came  into  her  tent  and  began 
to  ask  questions,  "  if  a  big  boy  should  get  a  small 
wooden  horse,  or  a  little  baby  should  be  given  a 
cricket  bat  and  ball.  Then  it  would  be  so  disap 
pointing  if  a  tiny  girl  got  a  work-box  and  a  big  one 
got  a  doll.  One  has  to  get  things  in  order.  They 
look  forward  to  this  so,  and  it's  heart-breaking  to  a 
child  to  be  disappointed,  isn't  it?" 

Walderhurst  gazed  uninspiringly. 

"  Who  did  this  for  Lady  Maria  when  you  were 
not  here?  "  he  inquired, 


84  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  Oh,  other  people.  But  she  says  it  was  tire 
some."  Then  with  an  illumined  smile:  "  She  has 
asked  me  to  Mallowe  for  the  next  twenty  years  for 
the  treats.  She  is  so  kind." 

"  Maria  is  a  kind  woman  " — with  what  seemed 
to  Emily  delightful  amiability.  "  She  is  kind  to 
her  treats  and  she  is  kind  to  Maria  Bayne." 

"  She  is  kind  to  me"  said  Emily.  "  You  don't 
know  how  I  am  enjoying  this." 

"  That  woman  enjoys  everything,"  Lord  Wal- 
derhurst  said  when  he  walked  away  with  Cora. 
"What  a  temperament  to  have!  I  would  give 
ten  thousand  a  year  for  it." 

"  She  has  so  little,"  said  Cora,  "  that  everything 
seems  beautiful  to  her.  One  doesn't  wonder,  either. 
She's  very  nice.  Mother  and  I  quite  admire  her. 
We  are  thinking  of  inviting  her  to  New  York  and 
giving  her  a  real  good  time." 

"  She  would  enjoy  New  York." 

"  Have  you  ever  been  there,  Lord  Walderhurst  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  You  ought  to  come,  really.  So  many  English 
men  come  now,  and  they  all  seem  to  like  it." 

"  Perhaps  I  will  come,"  said  Walderhurst.     "  I 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  85 

have  been  thinking  of  it.  One  is  tired  of  the  Con 
tinent  and  one  knows  India.  One  doesn't  know 
Fifth  Avenue,  and  Central  Park,  and  the  Rocky 
Mountains." 

"  One  might  try  them,"  suggested  pretty  Miss 
Cora. 

This  certainly  was  her  day.  Lord  Walderhurst 
took  her  and  her  mother  out  in  his  own  particular 
high  phaeton  before  lunch.  He  was  fond  of  driv 
ing,  and  his  own  phaeton  and  horses  had  come  to 
Mallowe  with  him.  He  took  only  his  favourites 
out,  and  though  he  bore  himself  on  this  occasion 
with  a  calm  air,  the  event  caused  a  little  smiling 
flurry  on  the  lawn.  At  least,  when  the  phaeton 
spun  down  the  avenue  with  Miss  Brooke  and  her 
mother  looking  slightly  flushed  and  thrilled  in  their 
high  seats  of  honour,  several  people  exchanged 
glances  and  raised  eye-brows. 

Lady  Agatha  went  to  her  room  and  wrote  a  long 
letter  to  Curzon  Street.  Mrs.  Ralph  talked  about 
the  problem-play  to  young  Heriot  and  a  group  of 
others. 

The  afternoon,  brilliant  and  blazing,  brought  new 
visitors  to  assist  by  their  presence  at  the  treat.  Lady 


86  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Maria  always  had  a  large  house-party,  and  added 
guests  from  the  neighbourhood  to  make  for  gaiety. 

At  two  o'clock  a  procession  of  village  children 
and  their  friends  and  parents,  headed  by  the  village 
band,  marched  up  the  avenue  and  passed  before  the 
house  on  their  way  to  their  special  part  of  the  park. 
Lady  Maria  and  her  guests  stood  upon  the  broad 
steps  and  welcomed  the  jocund  crowd,  as  it  moved 
by,  with  hospitable  bows  and  nods  and  becks  and 
wreathed  smiles.  Everybody  was  in  a  delighted 
good-humour. 

As  the  villagers  gathered  in  the  park,  the  house- 
party  joined  them  by  way  of  the  gardens.  A  con 
jurer  from  London  gave  an  entertainment  under  a 
huge  tree,  and  children  found  white  rabbits  taken 
from  their  pockets  and  oranges  from  their  caps, 
with  squeals  of  joy  and  shouts  of  laughter.  Lady 
Maria's  guests  walked  about  and  looked  on,  laugh 
ing  with  the  children. 

The  great  affair  of  tea  followed  the  performance. 
No  treat  is  fairly  under  way  until  the  children  are 
filled  to  the  brim  with  tea  and  buns  and  cake,  prin 
cipally  cake  in  plummy  wedges. 

Lady  Agatha  and  Mrs.  Ralph  handed  cake  along 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  87 

rows  of  children  seated  on  the  grass.  Miss  Brooke 
was  talking  to  Lord  Walderhurst  when  the  work 
began.  She  had  poppies  in  her  hat  and  carried  3 
poppy-coloured  parasol,  and  sat  under  a  tree,  look 
ing  very  alluring. 

"  I  ought  to  go  and  help  to  hand  cake,"  she  said. 

"  My  cousin  Maria  ought  to  do  it,"  remarked 
Lord  Walderhurst,  "  but  she  will  not — neither  shall 
I.  Tell  me  something  about  the  elevated  railroad 
and  Five-Hundred-and-Fifty-Thousandth  Street." 

He  had  a  slightly  rude,  gracefully  languid  air, 
which  Cora  Brooke  found  somewhat  impressive, 
after  all. 

Emily  Fox-Seton  handed  cake  and  regulated  sup 
plies  with  cheerful  tact  and  good  spirits.  When 
the  older  people  were  given  their  tea,  she  moved 
about  their  tables,  attending  to  every  one.  She  was 
too  heart-whole  in  her  interest  in  her  hospitalities 
to  find  time  to  join  Lady  Maria  and  her  party  at  the 
table  under  the  ilex-trees.  She  ate  some  bread-and- 
butter  and  drank  a  cup  of  tea  while  she  talked  to 
some  old  women  she  had  made  friends  with.  She 
was  really  enjoying  herself  immensely,  though  oc 
casionally  she  was  obliged  to  sit  down  for  a  few 


88  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

moments  just  to  rest  her  tired  feet.  The  children 
came  to  her  as  to  an  omnipotent  and  benign  being. 
She  knew  where  the  toys  were  kept  and  what  prizes 
were  to  be  given  for  the  races.  She  represented  law 
and  order  and  bestowal.  The  other  ladies  walked 
about  in  wonderful  dresses,  smiling  and  exalted,  the 
gentlemen  aided  the  sports  in  an  amateurish  way, 
and  made  patrician  jokes  among  themselves,  but  this 
one  lady  seemed  to  be  part  of  the  treat  itself.  She 
was  not  so  grandly  dressed  as  the  others, — her  dress 
was  only  blue  linen  with  white  bands  on  it, — and 
she  had  only  a  sailor  hat  with  a  buckle  and  bow, 
but  she  was  of  her  ladyship's  world  of  London 
people,  nevertheless,  and  they  liked  her  more  than 
they  had  ever  liked  a  lady  before.  It  was  a  fine 
treat,  and  she  seemed  to  have  made  it  so.  There 
had  never  been  quite  such  a  varied  and  jovial  treat 
at  Mallowe  before. 

The  afternoon  waxed  and  waned.  The  children 
played  games  and  raced  and  rejoiced  until  their 
young  limbs  began  to  fail  them.  The  older  people 
sauntered  about  or  sat  in  groups  to  talk  and  listen 
to  the  village  band.  Lady  Maria's  visitors,  having 
had  enough  of  rural  festivities,  went  back  to  the 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  89 

gardens  in  excellent  spirits,  to  talk  and  to  watch 
a  game  of  tennis  which  had  taken  form  on  the 
court. 

Emily  Fox-Seton's  pleasure  had  not  abated,  but 
her  colour  had  done  so.  Her  limbs  ached  and  her 
still-smiling  face  was  pale,  as  she  stood  under  the 
beech-tree  regarding  the  final  ceremonies  of  the 
festal  day,  to  preside  over  which  Lady  Maria  and 
her  party  returned  from  their  seats  under  the  ilex- 
trees.  The  National  Anthem  was  sung  loudly,  and 
there  were  three  tremendous  cheers  given  for  her 
ladyship.  They  were  such  joyous  and  hearty  cheers 
that  Emily  was  stirred  almost  to  emotional  tears. 
At  all  events,  her  hazel  eyes  looked  nice  and  moistly 
bright.  She  was  an  easily  moved  creature. 

Lord  Walderhurst  stood  near  Lady  Maria  and 
looked  pleased  also.  Emily  saw  him  speak  to  her 
ladyship  and  saw  Lady  Maria  smile.  Then  he 
stepped  forward,  with  his  non-committal  air  and 
his  monocle  glaring  calmly  in  his  eye. 

"  Boys  and  girls,"  he  said  in  a  clear,  far-reaching 
voice,  "  I  want  you  to  give  three  of  the  biggest 
cheers  you  are  capable  of  for  the  lady  who  has 
worked  to  make  your  treat  the  success  it  has  been. 


90  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Her  ladyship  tells  me  she  has  never  had  such  a  treat 
before.  Three  cheers  for  Miss  Fox-Seton." 

Emily  gave  a  gasp  and  felt  a  lump  rise  in  her 
throat.  She  felt  as  if  she  had  been  without  warning 
suddenly  changed  into  a  royal  personage,  and  she 
scarcely  knew  what  to  do. 

The  whole  treat,  juvenile  and  adult,  male  and 
female,  burst  into  three  cheers  which  were  roars  and 
bellows  Hats  and  caps  were  waved  and  tossed  into 
the  air,  and  every  creature  turned  toward  her  as  she 
blushed  and  bowed  in  tremulous  gratitude  and  de 
light. 

"Oh,  Lady  Maria!  oh,  Lord  Walderhurst!  "  she 
said,  when  she  managed  to  get  to  them,  "  how  kind 
you  are  to  me !  " 


FTER  she  had  taken  her 
early  tea  in  the  morning, 
Emily  Fox-Seton  lay  upon 
her  pillows  and  gazed  out 
upon  the  tree-branches  near 
her  window,  in  a  state  of 
bliss.  She  was  tired,  but 
happy.  How  well  everything  had  "  gone  off  " ! 
How  pleased  Lady  Maria  had  been,  and  how  kind 
of  Lord  Walderhurst  to  ask  the  villagers  to  give 
three  cheers  for  herself!  She  had  never  dreamed  of 
such  a  thing.  It  was  the  kind  of  attention  not 
usually  offered  to  her.  She  smiled  her  childlike 
smile  and  blushed  at  the  memory  of  it.  Her  im 
pression  of  the  world  was  that  people  were  really 
very  amiable,  as  a  rule.  They  were  always  good 
to  her,  at  least,  she  thought,  and  it  did  not  occur 
to  her  that  if  she  had  not  paid  her  way  so  re- 


92  EMILY.   FOX-SETON 

markably  well  by  being  useful  they  might  have 
been  less  agreeable.  Never  once  had  she  doubted 
that  Lady  Maria  was  the  most  admirable  and 
generous  of  human  beings.  She  was  not  aware 
in  the  least  that  her  ladyship  got  a  good  deal 
out  of  her.  In  justice  to  her  ladyship,  it  may 
be  said  that  she  was  not  wholly  aware  of  it  herself, 
and  that  Emily  absolutely  enjoyed  being  made 
use  of. 

This  morning,  however,  when  she  got  up,  she 
found  herself  more  tired  than  she  ever  remembered 
being  before,  and  it  may  be  easily  argued  that  a 
woman  who  runs  about  London  on  other  people's 
errands  often  knows  what  it  is  to  be  aware  of  ach 
ing  limbs.  She  laughed  a  little  when  she  'discov 
ered  that  her  feet  were  actually  rather  swollen,  and 
that  she  must  wear  a  pair  of  her  easiest  slippers. 

"  I  must  sit  down  as  much  as  I  can  to-day,"  she 
thought.  "  And  yet,  with  the  dinner-party  and  the 
excursion  this  morning,  there  may  be  a  number  of 
little  things  Lady  Maria  would  like  me  to  do." 

There  were,  indeed,  numbers  of  things  Lady 
Maria  was  extremely  glad  to  ask  her  to  do.  The 
drive  to  the  ruins  was  to  be  made  before  lunch, 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  93 

because  some  of  the  guests  felt  that  an  afternoon 
jaunt  would  leave  them  rather  fagged  for  the  din 
ner-party  in  the  evening.  Lady  Maria  was  not  go- 
ing,  and,  as  presently  became  apparent,  the  carriages 
would  be  rather  crowded  if  Miss  Fox-Seton  joined 
the  party.  On  the  whole,  Emily  was  not  sorry  to 
have  an  excuse  for  remaining  at  home,  and  so  the 
carriages  drove  away  comfortably  filled,  and  Lady 
Maria  and  Miss  Fox-Seton  watched  their  departure. 

"  I  have  no  intention  of  having  my  venerable 
bones  rattled  over  hill  and  dale  the  day  I  give  a 
dinner-party,"  said  her  ladyship.  "  Please  ring  the 
bell,  Emily.  I  want  to  make  sure  of  the  fish.  Fish 
is  one  of  the  problems  of  country  life.  Fishmongers 
are  demons,  and  when  they  live  five  miles  from  one 
they  can  arouse  the  most  powerful  human  emo 
tions." 

Mallowe  Court  was  at  a  distance  from  the  coun~ 
try  town  delightful  in  its  effects  upon  the  rusticity 
of  the  neighbourhood,  but  appalling  when  consid 
ered  in  connection  with  fish.  One  could  not  dine 
without  fish ;  the  town  was  small  and  barren  of  re 
sources,  and  the  one  fishmonger  of  weak  mind  and 
unreliable  nature. 


94  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

The  footman  who  obeyed  the  summons  of  the 
bell  informed  her  ladyship  that  the  cook  was  rather 
anxfous  about  the  fish,  as  usual.  The  fishmonger 
had  been  a  little  doubtful  as  to  whether  he  could 
supply  her  needs,  and  his  cart  never  arrived  until 
half-past  twelve. 

"  Great  goodness !  "  exclaimed  her  ladyship  when 
the  man  retired.  "  What  a  situation  if  we  found 
ourselves  without  fish!  Old  General  Barnes  is  the 
most  ferocious  old  gourmand  in  England,  and  he 
loathes  people  who  give  him  bad  dinners.  We  are 
all  rather  afraid  of  him,  the  fact  is,  and  I  will 
own  that  I  am  vain  about  my  dinners.  That  is  the 
last  charm  nature  leaves  a  woman,  the  power  to 
give  decent  dinners.  I  shall  be  fearfully  annoyed 
if  any  ridiculous  thing  happens." 

They  sat  in  the  morning-room  together  writing 
notes  and  talking,  and  as  half-past  twelve  drew 
near,  watching  for  the  fishmonger's  cart.  Once  or 
twice  Lady  Maria  spoke  of  Lord  Walderhurst. 

"  He  is  an  interesting  creature,  to  my  mind,"  she 
said.  "  I  have  always  rather  liked  him.  He  has 
original  ideas,  though  he  is  not  in  the  least  brilliant. 
I  believe  he  talks  more  freely  to  me,  on  the  whole, 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  95 

than  to  most  people,  though  I  can't  say  he  has  a 
particularly  good  opinion  of  me.  He  stuck  his 
glass  in  his  eye  and  stared  at  me  last  night,  in  that 
weird  way  of  his,  and  said  to  me,  '  Maria,  in  an 
ingenuous  fashion  of  your  own,  you  are  the  most 
abominably  selfish  woman  I  ever  beheld.'  Still, 
I  know  he  rather  likes  me.  I  said  to  him :  '  That 
isn't  quite  true,  James.  I  am  selfish,  but  I'm  not 
abominably  selfish.  Abominably  selfish  people  al 
ways  have  nasty  tempers,  and  no  one  can  accuse 
me  of  having  a  nasty  temper.  I  have  the  disposi 
tion  of  a  bowl  of  bread  and  milk." 

"  Emily," — as  wheels  rattled  up  the  avenue, — "  is 
that  the  fishmonger's  cart?  " 

"No,"  answered  Emily  at  the  window;  "it  is 
the  butcher." 

"  His  attitude  toward  the  women  here  has  made 
my  JOY)"  Lady  Maria  proceeded,  smiling  over  the 
deep-sea  fishermen's  knitted  helmet  she  had  taken 
up.  "  He  behaves  beautifully  to  them  all,  but  not 
one  of  them  has  really  a  leg  to  stand  on  as  far  as  he 
is  responsible  for  it.  But  I  will  tell  you  something, 
Emily."  She  paused. 

Miss  Fox-Seton  waited  with  interested  eyes. 


96  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  He  is  thinking  of  bringing  the  thing  to  an  end 
and  marrying  some  woman.  I  feel  it  in  my  bones." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  exclaimed  Emily.  "Oh, 
I  can't  help  hoping "  But  she  paused  also. 

"  You  hope  it  will  be  Agatha  Slade,"  Lady  Maria 
ended  for  her.  "  Well,  perhaps  it  will  be.  I 
sometimes  think  it  is  Agatha,  if  it's  any  one.  And 
yet  I'm  not  sure.  One  never  could  be  sure  with 
Walderhurst.  He  has  always  had  a  trick  of  keep 
ing  more  than  his  mouth  shut.  I  wonder  if  he 
could  have  any  other  woman  up  his  sleeve?" 

"  Why  do  you  think "  began  Emily. 

Lady  Maria  laughed. 

"  For  an  odd  reason.  The  Walderhursts  have  a 
ridiculously  splendid  ring  in  the  family,  which  they 
have  a  way  of  giving  to  the  women  they  become 
engaged  to.  It's  ridiculous  because — well,  because 
a  ruby  as  big  as  a  trouser's  button  is  ridiculous. 
You  can't  get  over  that.  There  is  a  story  connected 
with  this  one — centuries  and  things,  and  something 
about  the  woman  the  first  Walderhurst  had  it  made 
for.  She  was  a  Dame  Something  or  Other  who  had 
snubbed  the  King  for  being  forward,  and  the  snub 
bing  was  so  good  for  him  that  he  thought  she  was 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  97 

a  saint  and  gave  the  ruby  for  her  betrothal.  Well, 
by  the  merest  accident  I  found  Walderhurst  had 
sent  his  man  to  town  for  it.  It  came  two  days 
ago." 

"Oh,  how  interesting!"  said  Emily,  thrilled. 
"  It  must  mean  something." 

"  It  is  rather  a  joke.  Wheels  again,  Emily. 
Is  that  the  fishmonger?  " 

Emily  went  to  the  window  once  more.  "  Yes," 
she  answered,  "  if  his  name  is  Buggle." 

"  His  name  is  Buggle,"  said  Lady  Maria,  "  and 
we  are  saved." 

But  five  minutes  later  the  cook  herself  appeared 
at  the  morning-room  door.  She  was  a  stout  person, 
who  panted,  and  respectfully  removed  beads  of  per 
spiration  from  her  brow  with  a  clean  handkerchief. 
She  was  as  nearly  pale  as  a  heated  person  of  her 
weight  may  be. 

"And  what  has  happened  now,  cook?"  asked 
Lady  Maria. 

"  That  Buggle,  your  ladyship,"  said  cook,  "  says 
your  ladyship  can't  be  no  sorrier  than  he  is,  but 
when  fish  goes  bad  in  a  night  it  can't  be  made  fresh 
in  the  morning.  He  brought  it  that  I  might  see  it 


98  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

for  myself,  and  it  is  in  a  state  as  could  not  be  used 
by  any  one.  I  was  that  upset,  your  ladyship,  that 
I  felt  like  I  must  come  and  explain  myself." 

"  What  can  be  done  ?  "  exclaimed  Lady  Maria. 
"  Emily,  do  suggest  something." 

"  We  can't  even  be  sure,"  said  the  cook,  "  that 
Batch  has  what  would  suit  us.  Batch  sometimes 
has  it,  but  he  is  the  fishmonger  at  Maundell,  and 
that  is  four  miles  away,  and  we  are  short-'anded, 
your  ladyship,  now  the  'ouse  is  so  full,  and  not  a 
servant  that  could  be  spared." 

"  Dear  me!  "  said  Lady  Maria.  "  Emily,  this  is 
really  enough  to  drive  one  quite  mad.  If  every 
thing  was  not  out  of  the  stables,  I  know  you  would 
drive  over  to  Maundell.  You  are  such  a  good 
walker," — catching  a  gleam  of  hope, — "  do  you 
think  you  could  walk  ?  " 

Emily  tried  to  look  cheerful.  Lady  Maria's  sit 
uation  was  really  an  awful  one  for  a  hostess.  It 
would  not  have  mattered  in  the  least  if  her  strong, 
healthy  body  had  not  been  so  tired.  She  was  an 
excellent  walker,  and  ordinarily  eight  miles  would 
have  meant  nothing  in  the  way  of  fatigue.  She 
was  kept  in  good  training  by  her  walking  in  town. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  99 

Springy  moorland  swept  by  fresh  breezes  was  not 
like  London  streets. 

"  I  think  I  can  manage  it,"  she  said  nice-temper- 
edly.  "  If  I  had  not  run  about  so  much  yesterday 
it  would  be  a  mere  nothing.  You  must  have  the 
fish,  of  course.  I  will  walk  over  the  moor  to  Maun- 
dell  and  tell  Batch  it  must  be  sent  at  once.  Then 
I  will  come  back  slowly.  I  can  rest  on  the  heather 
by  the  way.  The  moor  is  lovely  in  the  afternoon." 

"  You  dear  soul !  "  Lady  Maria  broke  forth. 
"  What  a  boon  you  are  to  a  woman !  '* 

She  felt  quite  grateful.  There  arose  in  her  mind 
an  impulse  to  invite  Emily  Fox-Seton  to  remain 
the  rest  of  her  life  with  her,  but  she  was  too  ex 
perienced  an  elderly  lady  to  give  way  to  impulses. 
She  privately  resolved,  however,  that  she  would 
have  her  a  good  deal  in  South  Audley  Street,  and 
would  make  her  some  decent  presents. 

When  Emily  Fox-Seton,  attired  for  her  walk  in 
her  shortest  brown  linen  frock  and  shadiest  hat, 
passed  through  the  hall,  the  post-boy  was  just  de 
livering  the  midday  letters  to  a  footman.  The  serv 
ant  presented  his  salver  to  her  with  a  letter  for  her 
self  lying  upon  the  top  of  one  addressed  in  Lady 


ioo  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Claraway's  handwriting  "  To  the  Lady  Agatha 
Slade."  Emily  recognised  it  as  one  of  the  epistles 
of  many  sheets  which  so  often  made  poor  Agatha 
shed  slow  and  depressed  tears.  Her  own  letter 
was  directed  in  the  well-known  hand  of  Mrs.  Cupp, 
and  she  wondered  what  it  could  contain. 

"  I  hope  the  poor  things  are  not  in  any  trouble," 
she  thought.  "  They  were  afraid  the  young  man  in 
the  sitting-room  was  engaged.  If  he  got  married 
and  left  them,  I  don't  know  what  they  would  do; 
he  has  been  so  regular." 

Though  the  day  was  hot,  the  weather  was  per 
fect,  and  Emily,  having  exchanged  her  easy  slippers 
for  an  almost  equally  easy  pair  of  tan  shoes,  found 
her  tired  feet  might  still  be  used.  Her  disposition 
to  make  the  very  best  of  things  inspired  her  to  re 
gard  even  an  eight-mile  walk  with  courage.  The 
moorland  air  was  so  sweet,  the  sound  of  the  bees 
droning  as  they  stumbled  about  in  the  heather  was 
such  a  comfortable,  peaceful  thing,  that  she  con 
vinced  herself  that  she  should  find  the  four  miles  to 
Maundell  quite  agreeable. 

She  had  so  many  nice  things  to  think  of  that  she 
temporarily  forgot  that  she  had  put  Mrs.  Cupp's 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  101 

letter  in  her  pocket,  and  was  half-way  across  the 
moor  before  she  remembered  it. 

"  Dear  me!"  she  exclaimed  when  she  recalled  it. 
"  I  must  see  what  has  happened." 

She  opened  the  envelope  and  began  to  read  as  she 
walked ;  but  she  had  not  taken  many  steps  before 
she  uttered  an  exclamation  and  stopped. 

"How  very  nice  for  them!"  she  said,  but  she 
turned  rather  pale. 

From  a  worldly  point  of  view  the  news  the  letter 
contained  was  indeed  very  nice  for  the  Cupps,  but 
it  put  a  painful  aspect  upon  the  simple  affairs  of 
poor  Miss  Fox-Seton. 

"  It  is  a  great  piece  of  news,  in  one  way,"  wrote 
Mrs.  Cupp,  "  and  yet  me  and  Jane  can't  help  feel 
ing  a  bit  low  at  the  thought  of  the  changes  it  will 
make,  and  us  living  where  you  won't  be  with  us,  if 
I  may  take  the  liberty,  miss.  My  brother  William 
made  a  good  bit  of  money  in  Australia,  but  he  has 
always  been  homesick  for  the  old  country,  as  he 
always  calls  England.  His  wife  was  a  Colonial, 
and  when  she  died  a  year  ago  he  made  up  his  mind 
to  come  home  to  settle  in  Chichester,  where  he  was 
born.  He  says  there's  nothing  like  the  feeling  of  a 


102  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Cathedral  town.  He's  bought  such  a  nice  house 
a  bit  out,  with  a  big  garden,  and  he  wants  me  and 
Jane  to  come  and  make  a  home  with  him.  He 
says  he  has  worked  hard  all  his  life,  and  now  he 
means  to  be  comfortable,  and  he  can't  be  bothered 
with  housekeeping.  He  promises  to  provide  well 
for  us  both,  and  he  wants  us  to  sell  up  Mortimer 
Street,  and  come  as  quick  as  possible.  But  we  shall 
miss  you,  miss,  and  though  her  Uncle  William 
keeps  a  trap  and  everything  according,  and  Jane  is 
grateful  for  his  kindness,  she  broke  down  and  cried 
hard  last  night,  and  says  to  me:  '  Oh,  mother,  if 
Miss  Fox-Seton  could  just  manage  to  take  me  as  a 
maid,  I  would  rather  be  it  than  anything.  Traps 
don't  feed  the  heart,  mother,  and  I've  a  feeling  for 
Miss  Fox-Seton  as  is  perhaps  unbecoming  to  my 
station.'  But  we've  got  the  men  in  the  house  ticket 
ing  things,  miss,  and  we  want  to  know  what  we 
shall  do  with  the  articles  in  your  bed-sitting-room." 
The  friendliness  of  the  two  faithful  Cupps  and 
the  humble  Turkey-red  comforts  of  the  bed-sitting- 
room  had  meant  home  to  Emily  Fox-Seton.  When 
she  had  turned  her  face  and  her  tired  feet  away 
from  discouraging  errands  and  small  humiliations 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  103 

and  discomforts,  she  had  turned  them  toward  the 
bed-sitting-room,  the  hot  little  fire,  the  small,  fat 
black  kettle  singing  on  the  hob,  and  the  two-and- 
eleven-penny  tea-set.  Not  being  given  to  crossing 
bridges  before  she  reached  them,  she  had  never  con 
templated  the  dreary  possibility  that  her  refuge 
might  be  taken  away  from  her.  She  had  not  dwelt 
upon  the  fact  that  she  had  no  other  real  refuge  on 
earth. 

As  she  walked  among  the  sun-heated  heather  and 
the  luxuriously  droning  bees,  she  dwelt  upon  it  now 
with  a  suddenly  realising  sense.  As  it  came  home 
to  her  soul,  her  eyes  filled  with  big  tears,  which 
brimmed  over  and  rolled  down  her  cheeks.  They 
dropped  upon  the  breast  of  her  linen  blouse  and  left 
marks. 

"  I  shall  have  to  find  a  new  bed-sitting-room 
somewhere,"  she  said,  the  breast  of  the  linen  blouse 
lifting  itself  sharply.  "  It  will  be  so  different  to  be 
in  a  house  with  strangers.  Mrs.  Cupp  and 
Jane "  She  was  obliged  to  take  out  her  hand 
kerchief  at  that  moment.  "  I  am  afraid  I  can't  get 
anything  respectable  for  ten  shillings  a  week.  It 
was  very  cheap — and  they  were  so  nice !  " 


104          EMILY  FOX-SETON 

All  her  fatigue  of  the  early  morning  had  returned. 
Her  feet  began  to  burn  and  ache,  and  the  sun  felt 
almost  unbearably  hot.  The  mist  in  her  eyes  pre 
vented  her  seeing  the  path  before  her.  Once  or 
twice  she  stumbled  over  something. 

"  It  seems  as  if  it  must  be  farther  than  four 
miles,"  she  said.  "  And  then  there  is  the  walk  back. 
I  am  tired.  But  I  must  get  on,  really." 


)HE  'drive  to  the  ruins  had  been 
a  great  success.  It  was  a 
drive  of  just  sufficient  length 
to  put  people  in  spirits  with 
out  fatiguing  them.  The 
party  came  back  to  lunch  with 
delightful  appetities.  Lady 
Agatha  and  Miss  Cora  Brooke  had  pink  cheeks. 
The  Marquis  of  Walderhurst  had  behaved  charm 
ingly  to  both  of  them.  He  had  helped  each  of 
them  to  climb  about  among  the  ruins,  and  had 
taken  them  both  up  the  steep,  dark  stairway  of 
one  of  the  towers,  and  stood  with  them  looking 
over  the  turrets  into  the  courtyard  and  the  moat. 
He  knew  the  history  of  the  castle  and  could  point 
out  the  banquet-hall  and  the  chapel  and  the 
serving-places,  and  knew  legends  about  the 
dungeons. 

105 


io6  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  He  gives  us  all  a  turn,  mother,"  said  Miss  Cora 
Brooke.  "  He  even  gave  a  turn  yesterday  to  poor 
Emily  Fox-Seton.  He's  rather  nice." 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  laughter  at  lunch  after 
their  return.  Miss  Cora  Brooke  was  quite  brilliant 
in  her  gay  little  sallies.  But  though  she  was  more 
talkative  than  Lady  Agatha,  she  did  not  look  more 
brilliant. 

The  letter  from  Curzon  Street  had  not 
made  the  beauty  shed  tears.  Her  face  had  fallen 
when  it  had  been  handed  to  her  on  her  return,  and 
she  had  taken  it  upstairs  to  her  room  with  rather  a 
flagging  step.  But  when  she  came  down  to  lunch 
she  walked  with  the  movement  of  a  nymph.  Her 
lovely  little  face  wore  a  sort  of  tremulous  radiance. 
She  laughed  like  a  child  at  every  amusing  thing  that 
was  said.  She  might  have  been  ten  years  old  in 
stead  of  twenty-two,  her  colour,  her  eyes,  her  spirits 
seemed  of  a  freshness  so  infantine. 

She  was  leaning  back  in  her  chair  laughing  en- 
chantingly  at  one  of  Miss  Brooke's  sparkling  re 
marks  when  Lord  Walderhurst,  who  sat  next  to 
her,  said  suddenly,  glancing  round  the  table: 

"  But  where  is  Miss  Fox-Seton  ?  " 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  107 

It  was  perhaps  a  significant  fact  that  up  to  this 
moment  nobody  had  observed  her  absence. 

It  was  Lady  Maria  who  replied. 

"  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  answer,"  she  said. 
"  As  I  have  said  before,  Emily  Fox-Seton  has  be 
come  the  lodestar  of  my  existence.  I  cannot  live 
without  her.  She  has  walked  over  to  Maundell 
to  make  sure  that  we  do  not  have  a  dinner-party 
without  fish  to-night." 

"  She  has  walked  over  to  Maundell,"  said  Lord 
Walderhurst — "  after  yesterday?" 

"  There  was  not  a  pair  of  wheels  left  in  the 
stable,"  answered  Lady  Maria.  "  It  is  disgraceful, 
of  course,  but  she  is  a  splendid  walker,  and  she 
said  she  was  not  too  tired  to  do  it.  It  is  the  kind 
of  thing  she  ought  to  be  given  the  Victoria  Cross 
for — saving  one  from  a  dinner-party  without  fish." 

The  Marquis  of  Walderhurst  took  up  the  cord 
of  his  monocle  and  fixed  the  glass  rigidly  in  his  eye. 

"  It  is  not  only  four  miles  to  Maundell,"  he  re 
marked,  staring  at  the  table-cloth,  not  at  Lady 
Maria,  "  but  it  is  four  miles  back." 

"  By  a  singular  coincidence,"  said  Lady  Maria. 

The  talk  and  laughter  went  on,  and  the  lunch 


io8  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

also,  but  Lord  Walderhurst,  for  some  reason  best 
known  to  himself,  did  not  finish  his.  For  a  few 
seconds  he  stared  at  the  table-cloth,  then  he  pushed 
aside  his  nearly  disposed-of  cutlet,  then  he  got  up 
from  his  chair  quietly. 

"  Excuse  me,  Maria,"  he  said,  and  without  fur 
ther  ado  went  out  of  the  room,  and  walked  toward 
the  stables. 

There  was  excellent  fish  at  Maundell;  Batch 
produced  it  at  once,  fresh,  sound,  and  desirable. 
Had  she  been  in  her  normal  spirits,  Emily  would 
have  rejoiced  at  the  sight  of  it,  and  have  retraced 
her  four  miles  to  Mallowe  in  absolute  jubilation. 
She  would  have  shortened  and  beguiled  her  return 
journey  by  depicting  to  herself  Lady  Maria's  pleas 
ure  and  relief. 

But  the  letter  from  Mrs.  Cupp  lay  like  a  weight 
of  lead  in  her  pocket.  It  had  given  her  such  things 
to  think  of  as  she  walked  that  she  had  been  oblivious 
to  heather  and  bees  and  fleece-bedecked  summer-blue 
sky,  and  had  felt  more  tired  than  in  any  tramp 
through  London  streets  that  she  could  call  to  mind. 
Each  step  she  took  seemed  to  be  carrying  her  farther 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  109 

away  from  the  few  square  yards  of  home  the  bed- 
sitting-room  had  represented  under  the  dominion  of 
the  Cupps.  Every  moment  she  recalled  more 
strongly  that  it  had  been  home — home.  Of  course 
it  had  not  been  the  third-floor  back  room  so  much 
as  it  had  been  the  Cupps  who  made  it  so,  who  had 
regarded  her  as  a  sort  of  possession,  who  had  liked 
to  serve  her,  and  had  done  it  with  actual  affection. 

"  I  shall  have  to  find  a  new  place,"  she  kept  say 
ing.  "  I  shall  have  to  go  among  quite  strange  peo 
ple." 

She  had  suddenly  a  new  sense  of  being  without 
resource.  That  was  one  of  the  proofs  of  the  curious 
heaviness  of  the  blow  the  simple  occurrence  was  to 
her.  She  felt  temporarily  almost  as  if  there  were 
no  other  lodging-houses  in  London,  though  she 
knew  that  really  there  were  tens  of  thousands.  The 
fact  was  that  though  there  might  be  other  Cupps, 
or  their  counterparts,  she  could  not  make  herself 
believe  such  a  good  thing  possible.  She  had  been 
physically  worn  out  before  she  had  read  the  letter, 
and  its  effect  had  been  proportionate  to  her  fatigue 
and  lack  of  power  to  rebound.  She  was  vaguely 
surprised  to  feel  that  the  tears  kept  filling  her  eyes 


i  io  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

and  falling  on  her  cheeks  in  big  heavy  drops.  She 
was  obliged  to  use  her  handkerchief  frequently,  as 
if  she  was  suddenly  developing  a  cold  in  her  head. 

"  I  must  take  care,"  she  said  once,  quite  prosaic 
ally,  but  with  more  pathos  in  her  voice  than  she 
was  aware  of,  "  or  I  shall  make  my  nose  quite 
red." 

Though  Batch  was  able  to  supply  fish,  he  was 
unfortunately  not  able  to  send  it  to  Mallowe.  His 
cart  had  gone  out  on  a  round  just  before  Miss  Fox- 
Seton's  arrival,  and  there  was  no  knowing  when  it 
would  return. 

"  Then  I  must  carry  the  fish  myself,'  said  Emily. 
"  You  can  put  it  in  a  neat  basket." 

"I'm  very  sorry,  miss;  I  am,  indeed,  miss,"  said 
Batch,  looking  hot  and  pained. 

"  It  will  not  be  heavy,"  returned  Emily ;  "  and 
her  ladyship  must  be  sure  of  it  for  the  dinner-party." 

So  she  turned  back  to  recross  the  moor  with  a 
basket  of  fish  on  her  arm.  And  she  was  so  pathet 
ically  unhappy  that  she  felt  that  so  long  as  she  live'd 
the  odour  of  fresh  fish  would  make  her  feel  sorrow 
ful.  She  had  heard  of  people  who  were  made  sor 
rowful  by  the  odour  of  a  flower  or  the  sound  of  a 


The    Marquis    of    W alder hurst 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  in 

melody,  but  in  her  case  it  would  be  the  smell  of 
fresh  fish  that  would  make  her  sad.  If  she  had 
been  a  person  with  a  sense  of  humour,  she  might 
have  seen  that  this  was  thing  to  laugh  at  a  little. 
But  she  was  not  a  humorous  woman,  and  just 
now 

"  Oh,  I  shall  have  to  find  a  new  place,"  she  was 
thinking,  "  and  I  have  lived  in  that  little  room  for 
years." 

The  sun  got  hotter  and  hotter,  and  her  feet  be 
came  so  tired  that  she  could  scarcely  drag  one  of 
them  after  another.  She  had  forgotten  that  she  had 
left  Mallowe  before  lunch,  and  that  she  ought  to 
have  got  a  cup  of  tea,  at  least,  at  Maundell.  Be 
fore  she  had  walked  a  mile  on  her  way  back,  she 
realised  that  she  was  frightfully  hungry  and  rather 
faint. 

"  There  is  not  even  a  cottage  where  I  could  get 
a  glass  of  water,"  she  thought. 

The  basket,  which  was  really  comparatively  light, 
began  to  feel  heavy  on  her  arm,  and  at  length  she 
felt  sure  that  a  certain  burning  spot  on  her  left  heel 
must  be  a  blister  which  was  being  rubbed  by  her 
shoe.  How  it  hurt  her,  and  how  tired  she  was — 


ii2  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

how  tired!  And  when  she  left  Mallowe — lovely, 
luxurious  Mallowe — she  would  not  go  back  to  her 
little  room  all  fresh  from  the  Cupps'  autumn  house- 
cleaning,  which  Included  the  washing  and  ironing 
of  her  Turkey-red  hangings  and  chair-covers;  she 
would  be  obliged  to  huddle  Into  any  poor  place  she 
could  find..  And  Mrs.  Cupp  and  Jane  would  be 
in  Chichester. 

"  But  what  good  fortune  It  is  for  them ! "  she 
murmured.  "  They  need  never  be  anxious  about 
the  future  again.  How — how  wonderful  it  must 
be  to  know  that  one  need  not  be  afraid  of  the  fu 
ture!  I — indeed,  I  think  I  really  must  sit  down." 

She  sat  down  upon  the  sun-warmed  heather  and 
actually  let  her  tear-wet  face  drop  upon  her  hands. 

"Oh,  dear!  Oh,  dear!  Oh,  dear!"  she 
said  helplessly.  "  I  must  not  let  myself  do  this.  I 
mustn't,  Oh,  dear!  Oh,  dear!  Oh,  dear!" 

She  was  so  overpowered  by  her  sense  of  her  own 
weakness  that  she  was  conscious  of  nothing  but  the 
fact  that  she  must  control  it.  Upon  the  elastic 
moorland  road  wheels  stole  upon  one  without  sound. 
So  the  wheels  of  a  rapidly  driven  high  cart  ap 
proached  her  and  were  almost  at  her  side  before 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  113 

she  lifted  her  head,  startled  by  a  sudden  conscious 
ness  that  a  vehicle  was  near  her. 

It  was  Lord  Walderhurst's  cart,  and  even  as  she 
gazed  at  him  with  alarmed  wet  eyes,  his  lordship 
descended  from  it  and  made  a  sign  to  his  groom, 
who  at  once  impassively  drove  on. 

Emily's  lips  tried  to  tremble  into  a  smile;  she 
put  out  her  hand  fumblingly  toward  the  fish-basket, 
and  having  secured  it,  began  to  rise. 

"  I — sat  down  to  rest,"  she  faltered,  even  apolo 
getically.  "  I  walked  to  Maundell,  and  it  was  so 
hot." 

Just  at  that  moment  a  little  breeze  sprang  up 
and  swept  across  her  cheek.  She  was  so  grateful 
that  her  smile  became  less  difficult. 

"  I  got  what  Lady  Maria  wanted,"  she  added, 
and  the  childlike  dimple  in  her  cheek  endeavoured 
to  defy  her  eyes. 

The  Marquis  of  Walderhurst  looked  rather  odd. 
Emily  had  never  seen  him  look  like  this  before.  He 
took  a  silver  flask  out  of  his  pocket  in  a  matter-of- 
fact  way,  and  filled  its  cup  with  something. 

"  That  is  sherry,"  he  said.  "  Please  drink  it. 
You  are  absolutely  faint," 


ii4  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

She  held  out  her  hand  eagerly.  She  could  not 
help  it. 

"Oh,  thank  you — thank  you!"  she  said.  "I 
am  so  thirsty!  "  And  she  drank  it  as  if  it  were 
the  nectar  of  the  gods. 

"  Now,  Miss  Fox-Seton,"  he  said,  "  please  sit 
down  again.  I  came  here  to  drive  you  back  to 
Mallowe,  and  the  cart  will  not  come  back  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour." 

"  You  came  on  purpose !  "  she  exclaimed,  feeling, 
in  truth,  somewhat  awe-struck.  "  But  how  kind 
of  you,  Lord  Walderhurst — how  good !  " 

It  was  the  most  unforeseen  and  amazing  experi 
ence  of  her  life,  and  at  once  she  sought  for  some 
reason  which  could  connect  with  his  coming  some 
more  interesting  person  than  mere  Emily  Fox-Seton. 
Oh, — the  thought  flashed  upon  her, — he  had  come 
for  some  reason  connected  with  Lady  Agatha. 

He  made  her  sit  down  on  the  heather  again,  and 
he  took  a  seat  beside  her.  He  looked  straight  into 
her  eyes. 

"  You  have  been  crying,"  he  remarked. 

There  was  no  use  denying  it.  And  what  was 
there  in  the  good  gray-brown  eye,  gazing  through 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  115 

the  monocle,  which  so  moved  her  by  its  suggestion 
of  kindness  and — and  some  new  feeling? 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  she  admitted.  "  I  don't  often — 
but — well,  yes,  I  have." 

"What  was  it?" 

It  was  the  most  extraordinary  thump  her  heart 
gave  at  this  moment.  She  had  never  felt  such  an 
absolute  thump.  It  was  perhaps  because  she  was 
tired.  His  voice  had  lowered  itself.  No  man  had 
ever  spoken  to  her  before  like  that.  It  made  one 
feel  as  if  he  was  not  an  exalted  person  at  all;  only 
a  kind,  kind  one.  She  must  not  presume  upon  his 
kindness  and  make  much  of  her  prosaic  troubles. 

She  tried  to  smile  in  a  proper  casual  way. 

"  Oh,  it  was  a  small  thing,  really,"  was  her  ef 
fort  at  treating  the  matter  lightly ;  "  but  it  seems 
more  important  to  me  than  it  wrould  to  any  one 
with — with  a  family.  The  people  I  live  with — 
who  have  been  so  kind  to  me — are  going  away." 

"  The  Cupps?"  he  asked. 

She  turned  quite  round  to  look  at  him. 

"  How,"  she  faltered,  "  did  you  know  about 
them?" 

"  Maria  told  me,"  he  answered.     "  I  asked  her." 


ii6  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

It  seemed  such  a  human  sort  of  interest  to  have 
taken  in  her.  She  could  not  understand.  And 
she  had  thought  he  scarcely  realised  her  existence. 
She  said  to  herself  that  was  so  often  the  case — 
people  were  so  much  kinder  than  one  knew. 

She  felt  the  moisture  welling  in  her  eyes,  and 
stared  steadily  at  the  heather,  trying  to  wink  it 
away. 

"  I  am  really  glad,"  she  explained  hastily.  "  It 
is  such  good  fortune  for  them.  Mrs.  Cupp's  brother 
has  offered  them  such  a  nice  home.  They  need 
never  be  anxious  again." 

"  But  they  will  leave  Mortimer  Street — and 
you  will  have  to  give  up  your  room." 

"  Yes.  I  must  find  another."  A  big  drop  got 
the  better  of  her,  and  flashed  on  its  way  down 
her  cheek.  "  I  can  find  a  room,  perhaps,  but — I 

can't  find "  She  was  obliged  to  clear  her 

throat. 

"  That  was  why  you  cried  ?  " 

"  Yes."     After  which  she  sat  still. 

"  You  don't  know  where  you  will  live  ?  " 

"  No." 

She  was  looking  so  straight  before  her  and  trying 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  117 

so  hard  to  behave  discreetly  that  she  did  not  see 
that  he  had  drawn  nearer  to  her.  But  a  moment 
later  she  realised  it,  because  he  took  hold  of  her 
hand.  His  own  closed  over  it  firmly. 

"  Will  you,"  he  said — "  I  came  here,  in  fact,  to 
ask  you  if  you  will  come  and  live  with  me?" 

Her  heart  stood  still,  quite  still.  London  was 
so  full  of  ugly  stories  about  things  done  by  men  of 
his  rank — stories  of  transgressions,  of  follies,  of 
cruelties.  So  many  were  open  secrets.  There  were 
men,  who,  even  while  keeping  up  an  outward  aspect 
of  respectability,  were  held  accountable  for  painful 
things.  The  lives  of  well-born  struggling  women 
were  so  hard.  Sometimes  such  nice  ones  went  under 
because  temptation  was  so  great.  But  she  had  not 
thought,  she  could  not  have  dreamed 

She  got  on  her  feet  and  stood  upright  before  him. 
He  rose  with  her,  and  because  she  was  a  tall  woman 
their  eyes  were  on  a  level.  Her  own  big  and  honest 
ones  were  wide  and  full  of  crystal  tears. 

"Oh!"  she  said  in  helpless  woe.     "Oh!" 

It  was  perhaps  the  most  effective  thing  a  woman 
ever  did.  It  was  so  simple  that  it  was  heartbreak 
ing.  She  could  not  have  uttered  a  word,  he  was 


n8  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

such  a  powerful  and  great  person,  and  she  was  so 
without  help  or  stay. 

Since  the  occurring  of  this  incident,  she  has  often 
been  spoken  of  as  a  beauty,  and  she  has,  without 
doubt,  had  her  fine  hours;  but  Walderhurst  has 
never  told  her  that  the  most  beautiful  moment  of 
her  life  was  undoubtedly  that  in  which  she  stood 
upon  the  heather,  tall  and  straight  and  simple,  her 
hands  hanging  by  her  sides,  her  large,  tear-filled 
hazel  eyes  gazing  straight  into  his.  In  the  fem 
ininity  of  her  frank  defencelessness  there  was  an 
appeal  to  nature's  self  in  man  which  was  not  quite 
of  earth.  And  for  several  seconds  they  stood  so 
and  gazed  into  each  other's  souls — the  usually  un- 
illuminated  nobleman  and  the  prosaic  young  woman 
who  lodged  on  a  third  floor  back  in  Mortimer 
Street. 

Then,  quite  quickly,  something  was  lighted  in 
his  eyes,  and  he  took  a  step  toward  her. 

"Good  heavens!"  he  demanded.  "What  do 
you  suppose  I  am  asking  of  you  ?  " 

"  I  'don't — know,"  she  answered ;  "  I  don't — • 
know." 

"  My  good  girl,"  he  said,  even  with  some  irrita- 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  119 

tion,  "  I  am  asking  you  to  be  my  wife.  I  am  asking 
you  to  come  and  live  with  me  in  an  entirely  re 
spectable  manner,  as  the  Marchioness  of  Walder- 
hurst." 

Emily  touched  the  breast  of  her  brown  linen 
blouse  with  the  tips  of  her  fingers. 

"  You — are — asking — me?  "  she  said. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.  His  glass  had  dropped  out 
of  his  eye,  and  he  picked  it  up  and  replaced  it. 
"  There  is  Black  with  the  cart,"  he  said.  "  I 
will  explain  myself  with  greater  clearness  as  we 
drive  back  to  Mallowe." 

The  basket  of  fish  was  put  in  the  cart,  and  Emily 
Fox-Seton  was  put  in.  Then  the  marquis  got  in 
himself,  and  took  the  reins  from  his  groom. 

"  You  will  walk  back,  Black,"  he  said,  "  by  that 
path,"  with  a  wave  of  the  hand  in  a  diverging  direc 
tion. 

As  they  drove  across  the  heather,  Emily  was  trem 
bling  softly  from  head  to  foot.  She  could  have 
told  no  human  being  what  she  felt.  Only  a  woman 
who  had  lived  as  she  had  lived  and  who  had  been 
trained  as  she  had  been  trained  could  have  felt  it. 


120  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

The  brilliance  of  the  thing  which  had  happened 
to  her  was  so  unheard  of  and  so  undeserved,  she 
told  herself.  It  was  so  incredible  that,  even  with 
the  splendid  gray  mare's  high-held  head  before  her 
and  Lord  Walderhurst  by  her  side,  she  felt  that 
she  was  only  part  of  a  dream.  Men  had  never 
said  "  things  "  to  her,  and  a  man  was  saying  them — 
the  Marquis  of  Walderhurst  was  saying  them. 
They  were  not  the  kind  of  things  every  man  says 
or  said  in  every  man's  way,  but  they  so  moved  her 
soul  that  she  quaked  with  joy. 

"  I  am  not  a  marrying  man,"  said  his  lordship, 
"  but  I  must  marry,  and  I  like  you  better  than 
any  woman  I  have  ever  known.  I  do  not  generally 
like  women.  I  am  a  selfish  man,  and  I  want  an 
unselfish  woman.  Most  women  are  as  selfish  as 
I  am  myself.  I  used  to  like  you  when  I  heard 
Maria  speak  of  you.  I  have  watched  you  and 
thought  of  you  ever  since  I  came  here.  You  are 
necessary  to  every  one,  and  you  are  so  modest  that 
you  know  nothing  about  it.  You  are  a  handsome 
woman,  and  you  are  always  thinking  of  other 
women's  good  looks." 

Emily  gave  a  soft  little  gasp. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  121 

"  But  Lady  Agatha,"  she  said.  "  I  was  sure 
it  was  Lady  Agatha." 

"  I  'don't  want  a  girl,"  returned  his  lordship. 
"  A  girl  would  bore  me  to  death.  I  am  not  going 
to  dry-nurse  a  girl  at  the  age  of  fifty-four.  I  want 
a  companion." 

"  But  I  am  so  far  from  clever,"  faltered  Emily. 

The  marquis  turned  in  his  driving-seat  to  look 
at  her.  It  was  really  a  very  nice  look  he  gave  her. 
It  made  Emily's  cheeks  grow  pink  and  her  simple 
heart  beat. 

"You  are  the  woman  I  want,"  he  said.  "You 
make  me  feel  quite  sentimental." 

When  they  reached  Mallowe,  Emily  had  upon 
her  finger  the  ruby  which  Lady  Maria  had  graphic 
ally  described  as  being  "  as  big  as  a  trouser  button." 
It  was,  indeed,  so  big  that  she  could  scarcely  wear 
her  glove  over  it.  She  was  still  incredible,  but  she 
was  blooming  like  a  large  rose.  Lord  Walder- 
hurst  had  said  so  many  "  things  "  to  her  that  she 
seemed  to  behold  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth. 
She  had  been  so  swept  off  her  feet  that  she  had 
not  really  been  allowed  time  to  think,  after  that  first 
gasp,  of  Lady  Agatha. 


122  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

When  she  reached  her  bedroom  she  almost  re 
turned  to  earth  as  she  remembered  it.  Neither  of 
them  had  dreamed  of  this — neither  of  them.  What 
could  she  say  to  Lady  Agatha  ?  What  would  Lady 
Agatha  say  to  her,  though  it  had  not  been  her 
fault?  She  had  not  dreamed  that  such  a  thing 
could  be  possible.  How  could  she,  oh,  how  could 
she? 

She  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  her  room  with 
clasped  hands.  There  was  a  knock  upon  the  door, 
and  Lady  Agatha  herself  came  to  her. 

What  had  occurred?  Something.  It  was  to  be 
seen  in  the  girl's  eyes,  and  in  a  certain  delicate  shy 
ness  in  her  manner. 

"  Something  very  nice  has  happened,"  she  said. 

"Something  nice?"  repeated  Emily. 

Lady  Agatha  sat  down.  The  letter  from  Curzon 
Street  was  in  her  hand  half  unfolded. 

"  I  have  had  a  letter  from  mamma.  It  seems 
almost  bad  taste  to  speak  of  it  so  soon,  but  we  have 
talked  to  each  other  so  much,  and  you  are  so  kind, 
that  I  want  to  tell  you  myself.  Sir  Bruce  Norman 
has  been  to  talk  to  papa  about — about  me." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  123 

Emily  felt  that  her  cup  filled  to  the  brim  at 
the  moment. 

"He  is  in  England  again?" 

Agatha  nodded  gently. 

"  He  only  went  away  to — well,  to  test  his  own 
feelings  before  he  spoke.  Mamma  is  delighted  with 
him.  I  am  going  home  to-morrow." 

Emily  made  a  little  swoop  forward. 

"  You  always  liked  him  ?  "  she  said. 

Lady  Agatha's  delicate  mounting  colour  was 
adorable. 

"  I  was  quite  unhappy"  she  owned,  and  hid  her 
lovely  face  in  her  hands. 

In  the  morning-room  Lord  Walderhurst  was  talk 
ing  to  Lady  Maria. 

"  You  need  not  give  Emily  Fox-Seton  any  more 
clothes,  Maria,"  he  said.  "  I  am  going  to  supply 
her  in  future.  I  have  asked  her  to  marry  me." 

Lady  Maria  lightly  gasped,  and  then  began  to 
laugh. 

"  Well,  James,"  she  said,  "  you  have  certainly 
much  more  sense  than  most  men  of  your  rank  and 
age." 


Part  Two 


HEN  Miss  Emily  Fox-Seton 
was  preparing  for  the  ex 
traordinary  change  in  her 
life  which  transformed  her 
from  a  very  poor,  hard 
working  woman  into  one 
of  the  richest  marchionesses  in  England,  Lord 
Walderhurst's  cousin,  Lady  Maria  Bayne,  was 
extremely  good  to  her.  She  gave  her  advice,  and 
though  advice  is  a  cheap  present  as  far  as  the 
giver  is  concerned,  there  are  occasions  when  it 
may  be  a  very  valuable  one  to  the  recipient. 
Lady  Maria's  was  valuable  to  Emily  Fox-Seton, 
who  had  but  one  difficulty,  which  was  to  adjust 
herself  to  the  marvellous  fortune  which  had  be 
fallen  her. 


ia8  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

There  was  a  certain  thing  Emily  found  her 
self  continually  saying.  It  used  to  break  from 
her  lips  when  she  was  alone  in  her  room,  when 
she  was  on  her  way  to  her  dressmaker's,  and  in 
spite  of  herself,  sometimes  when  she  was  with  her 
whilom  patroness. 

"  I  can't  believe  it  is  true  !     I  can't  believe  it !  " 

"  I  don't  wonder,  my  dear  girl,"  Lady  Maria 
answered  the  second  time  she  heard  it.  "  But 
what  circumstances  demand  of  you  is  that  you 
should  learn  to." 

"Yes,"  said  Emily,  "I  know  I  must.  But  it 
seems  like  a  dream.  Sometimes,"  passing  her 
hand  over  her  forehead  with  a  little  laugh,  "  I  feel 
as  if  I  should  suddenly  find  myself  wakened  in  the 
room  in  Mortimer  Street  by  Jane  Cupp  bringing 
in  my  morning  tea.  And  I  can  see  the  wall 
paper  and  the  Turkey-red  cotton  curtains.  One 
of  them  was  an  inch  or  so  too  short.  I  never 
could  afford  to  buy  the  new  bit,  though  I  always 
intended  to." 

"  How  much  was  the  stuff  a  yard  ? "  Lady 
Maria  inquired. 

"Sevenpence." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  129 

"  How  many  yards  did  you  need  ?  " 

"  Two.  It  would  have  cost  one  and  two 
pence,  you  see.  And  I  really  could  get  on  with 
out  it." 

Lady  Maria  put  up  her  lorgnette  and  looked  at 
her  protegee  with  an  interest  which  bordered  on 
affection,  it  was  so  enjoyable  to  her  epicurean  old 
mind. 

"  I  did  n't  suspect  it  was  as  bad  as  that,  Emily," 
she  said.  "  I  should  never  have  dreamed  it.  You 
managed  to  do  yourself  with  such  astonishing 
decency.  You  were  actually  nice  —  always." 

"  I  was  very  much  poorer  than  anyone  knew," 
said  Emily.  "  People  don't  like  one's  troubles.  And 
when  one  is  earning  one's  living  as  I  was,  one 
must  be  agreeable,  you  know.  It  would  never  do 
to  seem  tiresome." 

"  There  's  cleverness  in  realising  that  fact,"  said 
Lady  Maria.  "  You  were  always  the  most  cheer 
ful  creature.  That  was  one  of  the  reasons 
Walderhurst  admired  you." 

The  future  marchioness  blushed  all  over.  Lady 
Maria  saw  even  her  neck  itself  blush,  and  it  amused 
her  ladyship  greatly.  She  was  intensely  edified  by 


130  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

the  fact  that  Emily  could  be  made  to  blush  by  the 
mere  mention  of  her  mature  fiance's  name. 

"  She  's  in  such  a  state  of  mind  about  the  man 
that  she  's  delightful,"  was  the  old  woman's  internal 
reflection  ;  "  I  believe  she  's  in  love  with  him,  as  if 
she  was  a  nurse-maid  and  he  was  a  butcher's  boy." 

"  You  see,"  Emily  went  on  in  her  nice,  confiding 
way  (one  of  the  most  surprising  privileges  of  her 
new  position  was  that  it  made  it  possible  for  her  to 
confide  in  old  Lady  Maria),  "  it  was  not  only  the 
living  from  day  to  day  that  made  one  anxious,  it 
was  the  Future !  "  (Lady  Maria  knew  that  the 
word  began  in  this  case  with  a  capital  letter.)  "  No 
one  knows  what  the  Future  is  to  poor  women. 
One  knows  that  one  must  get  older,  and  one  may 
not  keep  well,  and  if  one  could  not  be  active  and 
in  good  spirits,  if  one  could  not  run  about  on 
errands,  and  things  fell  off,  what  could  one  do  ? 
It  takes  hard  work,  Lady  Maria,  to  keep  up  even 
the  tiniest  nice  little  room  and  the  plainest  present 
able  wardrobe,  if  one  is  n't  clever.  If  I  had  been 
clever  it  would  have  been  quite  different,  I  dare  say. 
I  have  been  so  frightened  sometimes  in  the  middle 
of  the  night,  when  I  wakened  and  thought  about 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  131 

Jiving  to  be  sixty-five,  that  I  have  lain  and  shaken 
all  over.  You  see,"  her  blush  had  so  far  disappeared 
that  she  looked  for  the  moment  pale  at  the  memory, 
"  I  had  nobody  — nobody." 

"  And  now  you  are  going  to  be  the  Marchioness 
of  Walderhurst,"  remarked  Lady  Maria. 

Emily's  hands,  which  rested  on  her  knee,  wrung 
themselves  together. 

"  That  is  what  it  seems  impossible  to  believe," 
she  said,  "  or  to  be  grateful  enough  for  to  —  to  —  " 
and  she  blushed  all  over  again. 

"Say  'James',"  put  in  Lady  Maria,  with  a  sinful 
if  amiable  sense  of  comedy  ;  "  you  will  have  to  get 
accustomed  to  thinking  of  him  as  'James'  some 
times,  at  all  events." 

But  Emily  did  not  say  "  James."  There  was 
something  interesting  in  the  innocent  fineness  of 
her  feeling  for  Lord  Walderhurst.  In  the  midst 
of  her  bewildered  awe  and  pleasure  at  the  material 
splendours  looming  up  in  her  horizon,  her  soul 
was  filled  with  a  tenderness  as  exquisite  as  the 
religion  of  a  child.  It  was  a  combination  of  in 
tense  gratitude  and  the  guileless  passion  of  a 
hitherto  wholly  unawakened  woman  —  a  woman 


132  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

who  had  not  hoped  for  love  or  allowed  hel 
thoughts  to  dwell  upon  it,  and  who  therefore  had 
no  clear  understanding  of  its  full  meaning.  She 
could  not  have  explained  her  feeling  if  she  had 
tried,  and  she  did  not  dream  of  trying.  If  a 
person  less  inarticulate  than  herself  had  trans 
lated  it  to  her  she  would  have  been  amazed  and 
abashed.  So  would  Lord  Walderhurst  have  been 
amazed,  so  would  Lady  Maria ;  but  her  ladyship's 
amazement  would  have  expressed  itself  after  its  first 
opening  of  the  eyes,  with  a  faint  elderly  chuckle. 

When  Miss  Fox-Seton  had  returned  to  town 
she  had  returned  with  Lady  Maria  to  South  Audley 
Street.  The  Mortimer  Street  episode  was  closed, 
as  was  the  Cupps'  house.  Mrs.  Cupp  and  Jane 
had  gone  to  Chichester,  Jane  leaving  behind  her  a 
letter  the  really  meritorious  neatness  of  which  was 
blotted  by  two  or  three  distinct  tears.  Jane  re 
spectfully  expressed  her  affectionate  rapture  at  the 
wondrous  news  which  "  Modern  Society "  had 
revealed  to  her  before  Miss  Fox-Seton  herself  had 
time  to  do  so. 

"  I  am  afraid,  miss,"  she  ended  her  epistle, 
u  that  I  am  not  experienced  enough  to  serve  a  lady 


Lady     ir  alder  hurst 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  133 

in  a  grand  position,  but  hoping  it  is  not  a  liberty 
to  ask  it,  if  at  any  time  your  own  maid  should 
be  wanting  a  young  woman  to  work  under  her,  I 
should  be  grateful  to  be  remembered.  Perhaps 
having  learned  your  ways,  and  being  a  good  needle 
woman  and  fond  of  it,  might  be  a  little  recommen 
dation  for  me." 

"  I  should  like  to  take  Jane  for  my  maid,"  Emily 
had  said  to  Lady  Maria.  "  Do  you  think  I  might 
make  her  do  ?  " 

"  She  would  probably  be  worth  half  a  dozen 
French  minxes  who  would  amuse  themselves  by 
getting  up  intrigues  with  your  footmen,"  was  Lady 
Maria's  astute  observation.  "  I  would  pay  an 
extra  ten  pounds  a  year  myself  for  slavish  affection, 
if  it  was  to  be  obtained  at  agency  offices.  Send 
her  to  a  French  hairdresser  to  take  a  course  of 
lessons,  and  she  will  be  worth  anything.  To  turn 
you  out  perfectly  will  be  her  life's  ambition." 

To  Jane  Cupp's  rapture  the  next  post  brought 
her  the  following  letter  :  — 

DEAR  JANE,  —  It  is  just  like  you  to  write  such  a  nice 
letter  to  me,  and  I  can  assure  you  I  appreciated  all  your 
good  wishes  very  much.  I  feel  that  I  have  been  most 


134  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

fortunate,  and  am,  of  course,  very  happy.  I  have  spoken 
to  Lady  Maria  Bayne  about  you,  and  she  thinks  that  you 
might  make  me  a  useful  maid  if  I  gave  you  the  advantage 
of  a  course  of  lessons  in  hairdressing.  I  myself  know  that 
you  would  be  faithful  and  interested  and  that  I  could  not 
have  a  more  trustworthy  young  woman.  If  your  mother 
is  willing  to  spare  you,  I  will  engage  you.  The  wages 
would  be  thirty-five  pounds  a  year  (and  beer,  of  course) 
to  begin  with,  and  an  increase  later  as  you  became  more 
accustomed  to  your  duties.  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  your 
mother  is  so  well  and  comfortable.  Remember  me  to 
her  kindly. 

Yours  truly, 

EMILY  FOX-SETON. 

Jane  Cupp  trembled  and  turned  pale  with  joy  as 
she  read  her  letter. 

"  Oh,  mother !  "  she  said,  breathless  with  happi 
ness.  "  And  to  think  she  is  almost  a  marchioness 
this  very  minute.  I  wonder  if  I  shall  go  with  her 
to  Oswyth  Castle  first,  or  to  Mowbray,  or  to 
Hurst  ?  " 

"  My  word  ! "  said  Mrs.  Cupp,  "  you  are  in 
luck,  Jane,  being  as  you'd  rather  be  a  lady's 
maid  than  live  private  in  Chichester.  You  needn't 
go  out  to  service,  you  know.  Your  uncle 's  always 
ready  to  provide  for  you." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  135 

"  I  know  he  is,"  answered  Jane,  a  little  nervous 
lest  obstacles  might  be  put  in  the  way  of  her 
achieving  her  long-cherished  ambition.  "And 
it 's  kind  of  him,  and  I  'm  sure  I  'm  grateful.  But 
—  though  I  would  n't  hurt  his  feelings  by  mention 
ing  it  —  it  is  more  independent  to  be  earning  your 
own  living,  and  there  's  more  life,  you  see,  in  wait 
ing  on  a  titled  lady  and  dressing  her  for  drawing- 
rooms  and  parties  and  races  and  things,  and 
travelling  about  with  her  to  the  grand  places  she 
lives  in  and  visits.  Why,  mother,  I  've  heard  tell 
that  the  society  in  the  servants'  halls  is  almost 
like  high  life.  Butlers  and  footmen  and  maids  to 
high  people  has  seen  so  much  of  the  world  and  get 
such  manners.  Do  you  remember  how  quiet  and 
elegant  Susan  Hill  was  that  was  maid  to  Lady 
Cosbourne  ?  And  she  'd  been  to  Greece  and  to 
India.  If  Miss  Fox-Seton  likes  travel  and  his 
lordship  likes  it,  I  may  be  taken  to  all  sorts  of 
wonderful  places.  Just  think  !  " 

She  gave  Mrs.  Cupp  a  little  clutch  in  her  excite 
ment.  She  had  always  lived  in  the  basement  kitchen 
of  a  house  in  Mortimer  Street  and  had  never  had 
reason  to  hope  she  might  leave  it.  And  now ! 


136  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  You  're  right,  Jane  !  "  her  mother  said,  shak 
ing  her  head.  "  There  's  a  great  deal  in  it,  par 
ticular  when  you  're  young.  There  's  a  great  deal 
in  it." 

When  the  engagement  of  the  Marquis  of  Wal- 
derhurst  had  been  announced,  to  the  consternation 
of  many,  Lady  Maria  had  been  in  her  element. 
She  was  really  fine  at  times  in  her  attitude  towards 
the  indiscreetly  or  tactlessly  inquiring.  Her  man 
agement  of  Lady  Malfry  in  particular  had  been  a 
delightful  thing.  On  hearing  of  her  niece's  en 
gagement,  Lady  Malfry  had  naturally  awakened 
to  a  proper  and  well-behaved  if  belated  interest  in 
her.  She  did  not  fling  herself  upon  her  breast 
after  the  manner  of  worldly  aunts  in  ancient  come 
dies  in  which  Cinderella  attains  fortune.  She 
wrote  a  letter  of  congratulation,  after  which  she 
called  at  South  Audley  Street,  and  with  not  too 
great  obviousness  placed  herself  and  her  house  at 
the  disposal  of  such  female  relatives  as  required 
protection  during  the  period  of  their  preparation 
for  becoming  marchionesses.  She  herself  could 
not  have  explained  exactly  how  it  was  that,  with 
out  being  put  through  any  particular  process,  she 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  137 

understood,  before  her  call  was  half  over,  that 
Emily's  intention  was  to  remain  with  Lady  Maria 
Bayne  and  that  Lady  Maria's  intention  was  to 
keep  her.  The  scene  between  the  three  was  far 
too  subtle  to  be  of  the  least  use  upon  the  stage, 
but  it  was  a  good  scene,  nevertheless.  Its  expres 
sion  was  chiefly,  perhaps,  a  matter  of  inclusion  and 
exclusion,  and  may  also  have  been  largely  tele 
pathic  ;  but  after  it  was  over,  Lady  Maria  chuckled 
several  times  softly  to  herself,  like  an  elderly  bird 
of  much  humour,  and  Lady  Malfry  went  home 
feeling  exceedingly  cross. 

She  was  in  so  perturbed  a  humour  that  she 
dropped  her  eyelids  and  looked  rather  coldly  down 
the  bridge  of  her  nose  when  her  stupidly  cheery 
little  elderly  husband  said  to  her, — 

«  Well,  Geraldine  ?  " 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  she  replied.  "  I  don't  quite 
understand." 

"  Of  course  you  do.  How  about  Emily  Fox- 
Seton  ?  " 

"  She  seems  very  well,  and  of  course  she  is  well 
satisfied.  It  would  not  be  possible  for  her  to  be 
otherwise.  Lady  Maria  Bayne  has  taken  her  up." 


138  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  She  is  Walderhurst's  cousin.  Well,  well !  It 
will  be  an  immense  position  for  the  girl." 

"Immense,"  granted  Lady  Malfry,  with  a  little 
flush.  A  certain  tone  in  her  voice  conveyed  that  dis 
cussion  was  terminated.  Sir  George  knew  that  her 
niece  was  not  coming  to  them  and  that  the  immense 
position  would  include  themselves  but  slightly. 

Emily  was  established  temporarily  at  South 
Audley  Street  with  Jane  Cupp  as  her  maid.  She 
was  to  be  married  from  Lady  A'laria's  lean  old 
arms,  so  to  speak.  Her  ladyship  derived  her 
usual  epicurean  enjoyment  from  the  whole  thing, — 
from  too  obviously  thwarted  mothers  and  (laughters; 
from  Walderhurst,  who  received  congratulations 
with  a  civilly  inexpressive  countenance  which  usu 
ally  baffled  the  observer;  from  Emily,  who  was 
overwhelmed  by  her  emotions,  and  who  was  of  a 
candour  in  action  such  as  might  have  appealed  to 
any  heart  not  adapted  by  the  flintiness  of  its  nature 
to  the  macadamising  of  roads. 

If  she  had  not  been  of  the  most  unpretentious 
nice  breeding  and  unaffected  taste,  Emily  might 
have  been  ingenuously  funny  in  her  process  of 
transformation. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  139 

"  I  keep  forgetting  that  I  can  afford  things,"  she 
said  to  Lady  Maria.  "  Yesterday  I  walked  such  a 
long  way  to  match  a  piece  of  silk,  and  when  I  was 
tired  I  got  into  a  penny  bus.  I  did  not  remember 
until  it  was  too  late  that  I  ought  to  have  called  a 
hansom.  Do  you  think,"  a  shade  anxiously,  "  that 
Lord  Walderhurst  would  mind  ?  " 

"Just  for  the  present,  perhaps,  it  would  be  as 
well  that  I  should  see  that  you  shop  in  the  car 
riage,"  her  ladyship  answered  with  a  small  grin. 
"When  you  are  a  marchioness  you  may  make 
penny  buses  a  feature  of  the  distinguished  insouciance 
of  your  character  if  you  like.  I  should  n't  myself, 
because  they  jolt  and  stop  to  pick  up  people,  but 
you  can,  with  originality  and  distinction,  if  it 
amuses  you." 

"  It  does  n't,"  said  Emily.  "  I  hate  them.  I 
have  longed  to  be  able  to  take  hansoms.  Oh  !  how 
I  have  longed — when  I  was  tired." 

The  legacy  left  her  by  old  Mrs.  Maytrum  had 
been  realised  and  deposited  as  a  solid  sum  in  a 
bank.  Since  she  need  no  longer  hoard  the  income 
of  twenty  pounds  a  year,  it  was  safe  to  draw  upon 
her  capital  for  her  present  needs.  The  fact  made 


140  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

her  feel  comfortable.  She  could  make  her  prepara 
tions  for  the  change  in  her  life  with  a  decent  inde 
pendence.  She  would  have  been  definitely  unhappy 
if  she  had  been  obliged  to  accept  favours  at  this 
juncture.  She  felt  as  if  she  could  scarcely  have 
borne  it.  It  seemed  as  if  everything  conspired  to 
make  her  comfortable  as  well  as  blissfully  happy  in 
these  days. 

Lord  Walderhurst  found  an  interest  in  watching 
her  and  her  methods.  He  was  a  man  who,  in  cer 
tain  respects,  knew  himself  very  well  and  had  few 
illusions  respecting  his  own  character.  He  had 
always  been  rather  given  to  matter-of-fact  analysis 
of  his  own  emotions  ;  and  at  Mallowe  he  had  once 
or  twice  asked  himself  if  it  was  not  disagreeably 
possible  that  the  first  moderate  glow  of  his  St. 
Martin's  summer  might  die  away  and  leave  him 
feeling  slightly  fatigued  and  embarrassed  by  the 
new  aspect  of  his  previously  regular  and  entirely 
self-absorbed  existence.  You  might  think  that  you 
would  like  to  marry  a  woman  and  then  you  might 
realise  that  there  were  objections  —  that  even  the 
woman  herself,  with  all  her  desirable  qualities, 
might  be  an  objection  in  the  end,  that  any  woman 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  141 

might  be  an  objection  ;  in  fact,  that  it  required  an 
effort  to  reconcile  oneself  to  the  fact  of  a  woman's 
being  continually  about.  Of  course  the  arriving 
at  such  a  conclusion,  after  one  had  committed 
oneself,  would  be  annoying.  Walderhurst  had, 
in  fact,  only  reflected  upon  this  possible  aspect  of 
affairs  before  he  had  driven  over  the  heath  to  pick 
Emily  up.  Afterwards  he  had,  in  some  remote 
portion  of  his  mentality,  vaguely  awaited  devel 
opments. 

When  he  saw  Emily  day  by  day  at  South  Audley 
Street,  he  found  he  continued  to  like  her.  He  was 
not  clever  enough  to  analyse  her;  he  could  only 
watch  her,  and  he  always  looked  on  at  her  with 
curiosity  and  a  novel  sensation  rather  like  pleasure. 
She  wakened  up  at  sight  of  him,  when  he  called,  in 
a  way  that  was  attractive  even  to  an  unimaginative 
man.  Her  eyes  seemed  to  warm,  and  she  often 
looked  flushed  and  softly  appealing.  He  began  to 
note  vaguely  that  her  dresses  were  better,  and  oftener 
changed,  than  they  had  been  at  Mallowe.  A  more 
observant  man  might  have  been  touched  by  the 
suggestion  that  she  was  unfolding  petal  by  petal 
like  a  flower,  and  that  each  carefully  chosen  costume 


i42  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

was  a  new  petal.  He  did  not  in  the  least  suspect 
the  reverent  eagerness  of  her  care  of  herself  as  an 
object  hoping  to  render  itself  worthy  of  his  quali 
ties  and  tastes. 

His  qualities  and  tastes  were  of  no  exalted  impor 
tance  in  themselves,  but  they  seemed  so  to  Emily. 
It  is  that  which  by  one  chance  or  another  so  com 
mends  itself  to  a  creature  as  to  incite  it  to  the 
emotion  called  love,  which  is  really  of  importance, 
and  which,  not  speaking  in  figures,  holds  the 
power  of  life  and  death.  Personality  sometimes 
achieves  this,  circumstances  always  aid  it ;  but  in 
all  cases  the  result  is  the  same  and  sways  the  world 
it  exists  in  —  during  its  existence.  Emily  Fox- 
Seton  had  fallen  deeply  and  touchingly  in  love  with 
this  particular  prosaic,  well-behaved  nobleman,  and 
her  whole  feminine  being  was  absorbed  in  her  ado 
ration  of  him.  Her  tender  fancy  described  him  by 
adjectives  such  as  no  other  human  being  would  have 
assented  to.  She  felt  that  he  had  condescended 
to  her  with  a  generosity  which  justified  worship. 
This  was  not  true,  but  it  was  true  for  her.  As 
a  consequence  of  this  she  thought  out  and  purchased 
her  wardrobe  with  a  solemnity  of  purpose  such  as 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  143 

might  well  have  been  part  of  a  religious  ceremonial. 
When  she  consulted  fashion  plates  and  Lady  Maria, 
or  when  she  ordered  a  gown  at  her  ladyship's  dress 
maker's,  she  had  always  before  her  mind,  not 
herself,,  but  the  Marchioness  of  Walderhurst  —  a 
Marchioness  of  Walderhurst  whom  the  Marquis 
would  approve  of  and  be  pleased  with.  She  did 
not  expect  from  him  what  Sir  Bruce  Norman 
gave  to  Lady  Agatha. 

Agatha  and  her  lover  were  of  a  different  world. 
She  saw  them  occasionally,  not  often,  because  the 
simple  selfishness  of  young  love  so  absorbed  them 
that  they  could  scarcely  realise  the  existence  of 
other  persons  than  themselves.  They  were  to  be 
married,  and  to  depart  for  fairyland  as  soon  as 
possible.  Both  were  fond  of  travel,  and  when  they 
took  ship  together  their  intention  was  to  girdle  the 
world  at  leisure,  if  they  felt  so  inclined.  They 
could  do  anything  they  chose,  and  were  so  blissfully 
sufficient  for  each  other  that  there  was  no  reason 
why  they  should  not  follow  their  every  errant 
fancy. 

The  lines  which  had  been  increasing  in  Lady 
Claraway's  face  had  disappeared,  and  left  her 


144  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

blooming  with  the  beauty  her  daughters  had  repro 
duced.  This  delightful  marriage  had  smoothed 
away  every  difficulty.  Sir  Bruce  was  the  "  most 
charming  fellow  in  England."  That  fact  acted  as 
a  charm  in  itself,  it  seemed.  It  was  not  necessary 
to  go  into  details  as  to  the  mollifying  of  tradespeople 
and  rearranging  of  the  entire  aspect  of  life  at  Cur- 
zon  Street.  When  Agatha  and  Emily  Fox-Seton 
met  in  town  for  the  first  time —  it  was  in  the  draw 
ing  room  at  South  Audley  Street  —  they  clasped 
each  other's  hands  with  an  exchange  of  entirely 
new  looks. 

"You  look  so  —  so  well,  Miss  Fox-Seton,"  said 
Agatha,  with  actual  tenderness. 

If  she  had  not  been  afraid  of  seeming  a  little 
rudely  effusive  she  would  have  said  "handsome" 
instead  of  "well,"  for  Emily  was  sweetly  blooming. 

"  Happiness  is  becoming  to  you,"  she  added. 
"  May  I  say  how  glad  I  am  ?  " 

"Thank  you,  thank  you!"  Emily  answered. 
"  Everything  in  the  world  seems  changed,  does  n't 
it?" 

"  Yes,  everything." 

They  stood  and  gazed  into  each  other's  eyes  a 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  145 

few  seconds,  and  then  loosed  hands  with  a  little 
laugh  and  sat  down  to  talk. 

It  was,  in  fact,  Lady  Agatha  who  talked  most, 
because  Emily  Fox-Seton  led  her  on  and  aided  her 
to  delicate  expansion  by  her  delight  in  all  that  in 
these  days  made  up  her  existence  of  pure  bliss.  It 
was  as  if  an  old-time  fairy  story  were  being  en 
acted  before  Emily's  eyes.  Agatha  without  doubt 
had  grown  lovelier,  she  thought ;  she  seemed  even 
fairer,  more  willowy,  the  forget-me-not  eyes  were 
of  a  happier  blue,  as  forget-me-nots  growing  by 
clear  water-sides  are  bluer  than  those  grown  in  a 
mere  garden.  She  appeared,  perhaps,  even  a  little 
taller,  and  her  small  head  had,  if  such  a  thing  were 
possible,  a  prettier  flower-like  poise.  This,  at  least, 
Emily  thought,  and  found  her  own  happiness  added 
to  by  her  belief  in  her  fancy.  She  felt  that  nothing 
was  to  be  wondered  at  when  she  heard  Agatha 

O 

speak  of  Sir  Bruce.  She  could  not  utter  his  name 
or  refer  to  any  act  of  his  without  a  sound  in  her 
voice  which  had  its  parallel  in  the  light  floating 
haze  of  blush  on  her  cheeks.  In  her  intercourse 
with  the  world  in  general:  she  would  have  been 
able  to  preserve  her  customary  sweet  composure, 


146  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

but  Emily  Fox-Seton  was  not  the  world.  She 
represented  a  something  which  was  so  primitively 
of  the  emotions  that  one's  heart  spoke  and  listened 
to  her.  Agatha  was  conscious  that  Miss  Fox- 
Seton  had  seen  at  Mallowe  —  she  could  never 
quite  understand  how  it  had  seemed  so  naturally  to 
happen  —  a  phase  of  her  feelings  which  no  one  else 
had  seen  before.  Bruce  had  seen  it  since,  but 
only  Bruce.  There  had  actually  been  a  sort  of 
confidence  between  them  —  a  confidence  which  had 
been  like  intimacy,  though  neither  of  them  had 
been  effusive. 

"  Mamma  is  so  happy,"  the  girl  said.  "  It  is 
quite  wonderful.  And  Alix  and  Hilda  and  Milli- 
cent  and  Eve  —  oh  !  it  makes  such  a  difference  to 
them.  I  shall  be  able,"  with  a  blush  which  ex 
pressed  a  world  of  relieved  affection,  "to  give  them 
so  much  pleasure.  Any  girl  who  marries  happily 
and  —  and  well  —  can  alter  everything  for  her 
sisters,  if  she  remembers.  You  see,  I  shall  have 
reason  to  remember.  I  know  things  from  experi 
ence.  And  Bruce  is  so  kind,  and  gay,  and 
proud  of  their  prettiness.  Just  imagine  their  ex 
citement  at  ajl  being  bridesmaids !  Bruce  says  we 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  147 

shall  be  like  a  garden  of  spring  flowers.  I  am  so 
glad,"  her  eyes  suddenly  quite  heavenly  in  their 
joyful  relief,  "that  he  is  young  !  " 

The  next  second  the  heavenly  relieved  look  died 
away.  The  exclamation  had  been  involuntary. 
It  had  sprung  from  her  memory  of  the  days  when 
she  had  dutifully  accepted,  as  her  portion,  the  pos 
sibility  of  being  smiled  upon  by  Walderhurst,  who 
was  two  years  older  than  her  father,  and  her  swift 
realisation  of  this  fact  troubled  her.  It  was  indeli 
cate  to  have  referred  to  the  mental  image  even  ever 
so  vaguely. 

But  Emily  Fox-Seton  was  glad  too  that  Sir 
Bruce  was  young,  that  they  were  all  young,  and 
that  happiness  had  come  before  they  had  had  time 
to  tire  of  waiting  for  it.  She  was  so  happy  her 
self  that  she  questioned  nothing. 

"  Yes.  It  is  nice,"  she  answered,  and  glowed 
with  honest  sympathy.  "  You  will  want  to  do  the 
same  things.  It  is  so  agreeable  when  people  who 
are  married  like  to  do  the  same  things.  Perhaps 
you  will  want  to  go  out  a  great  deal  and  to  travel, 
and  you  could  not  enjoy  it  if  Sir  Bruce  did  not." 

She  was  not  reflecting  in  the  least  upon  domestic 


148  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

circles  whose  male  heads  are  capable  of  making 
themselves  extremely  nasty  under  stress  of  invita 
tions  it  bores  them  to  accept,  and  the  inclination 
of  wives  and  daughters  to  desire  acceptance.  She 
was  not  contemplating  with  any  premonitory  re 
grets  a  future  in  which,  when  Walderhurst  did  not 
wish  to  go  out  to  dinner  or  disdained  a  ball,  she 
should  stay  at  home.  Far  from  it.  She  simply 
rejoiced  with  Lady  Agatha,  who  was  twenty-two 
marrying  twenty-eight. 

"  You  are  not  like  me,"  she  explained  further. 
"  I  have  had  to  work  so  hard  and  contrive  so 
closely  that  everything  will  be  a  pleasure  to  me. 
Just  to  know  that  I  never  need  starve  to  death  or 
go  into  the  workhouse  is  such  a  relief  that  —  " 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Lady  Agatha,  quickly  and 
involuntarily  laying  a  hand  on  hers,  startled  by  the 
fact  that  she  spoke  as  if  referring  to  a  wholly 
matter-of-fact  possibility. 

Emily  smiled,  realising  her  feeling. 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  have  said  that.  I  for 
got.  But  such  things  are  possible  when  one  is  too 
old  to  work  and  has  nothing  to  depend  on.  You 
could  scarcely  understand.  When  one  is  very 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  149 

poor  one  is  frightened,  because  occasionally  one 
cannot  help  thinking  of  it." 

"  But  now  —  now  !  Oh  !  how  different !  "  ex 
claimed  Agatha,  with  heartfelt  earnestness. 

"Yes.  Now  I  need  never  be  afraid.  It  makes 
me  so  grateful  to  —  Lord  Walderhurst." 

Her  neck  grew  pink  as  she  said  it,  just  as  Lady 
Maria  had  seen  it  grow  pink  on  previous  occasions. 
Moderate  as  the  words  were,  they  expressed 
ardour. 

Lord  Walderhurst  came  in  half  an  hour  later 
and  found  her  standing  smiling  by  the  window. 

"  You  look  particularly  well,  Emily.  It 's  that 
white  frock,  I  suppose.  You  ought  to  wear  a 
good  deal  of  white,"  he  said. 

"I  will,"  Emily  answered.  He  observed  that 
she  wore  the  nice  flush  and  the  soft  appealing 
look,  as  well  as  the  white  frock.  "I  wish  —  " 

Here  she  stopped,  feeling  a  little  foolish. 

"  What  do  you  wish  ?  " 

"  I  wish  I  could  do  more  to  please  you  than 
wear  white — or  black  —  when  you  like." 

He  gazed  at  her,  always  through  the  single 
eyeglass.  Even  the  vaguest  approach  to  emotion 


150  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

or  sentiment  invariably  made  him  feel  stiff  and 
shy.  Realising  this,  he  did  not  quite  understand 
why  he  rather  liked  it  in  the  case  of  Emily  Fox- 
Seton,  though  he  only  liked  it  remotely  and  felt  his 
his  own  inaptness  a  shade  absurd. 

"Wear  yellow  or  pink  occasionally,"  he  said 
with  a  brief,  awkward  laugh. 

What  large,  honest  eyes  the  creature  had,  like  a 
fine  retriever's  or  those  of  some  nice  animal  one 
saw  in  the  Zoo  ! 

"  I  will  wear  anything  you  like,"  she  said,  the 
nice  eyes  meeting  his,  not  the  least  stupidly,  he 
reflected,  though  women  who  were  affectionate 
often  looked  stupid.  "  I  will  do  anything  you 
like;  you  don't  know  what  you  have  done  for  me, 
Lord  Walderhurst." 

They  moved  a  trifle  nearer  to  each  other,  this 
inarticulate  pair.  He  dropped  his  eyeglass  and 
patted  her  shoulder. 

"  Say  '  Walderhurst '  or  '  James  '  —  or  —  or  l  my 
dear,'  "  he  said.  "  We  are  going  to  be  married, 
you  know."  And  he  found  himself  going  to  the 
length  of  kissing  her  cheek  with  some  warmth. 

"  I  sometimes  wish,"  she  said  feelingly,  "  that 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  151 

it  was  the  fashion  to  say  l  my  lord '  as  Lady  Castle- 
wood  used  to  do  in  '  Esmond.'  I  always  thought 
it  nice." 

"  Women  are  not  so  respectful  to  their  hus 
bands  in  these  days,"  he  answered,  with  his  short 
laugh.  "  And  men  are  not  so  dignified." 

"  Lord  Castlewood  was  not  very  dignified,  was 
he  ?  " 

He  chuckled  a  little. 

"  No.  But  his  rank  was,  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Anne.  These  are  democratic  days.  I  '11  call  you 
1  my  lady  '  if  you  like." 

"  Oh  !  No  —  no  !  "  with  fervour,  "  I  was  n't 
thinking  of  anything  like  that." 

"  I  know  you  were  not,"  he  reassured  her. 
"You  are  not  that  kind  of  woman." 

"  Oh  !    how  could  I  be  ?  " 

"  You  could  n't,"  good-naturedly.  "  That 's  why 
I  like  you." 

Then  he  began  to  tell  her  his  reason  for  calling 
at  this  particular  hour.  He  came  to  prepare  her 
for  a  visit  from  the  Osborns,  who  had  actually 
just  returned  from  India.  Captain  Osborn  had 
chosen,  or  chance  had  chosen  for  him,  this  par- 


152  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

ticular  time  for  a  long  leave.  As  soon  as  she 
heard  the  name  of  Osborn,  Emily's  heart  beat  a 
little  quickly.  She  had  naturally  learned  a  good 
deal  of  detail  from  Lady  Maria  since  her  engage 
ment.  Alec  Osborn  was  the  man  who,  since 
Lord  Walderhurst's  becoming  a  widower,  had 
lived  in  the  gradually  strengthening  belief  that  the 
chances  were  that  it  would  be  his  enormous  luck 
to  inherit  the  title  and  estates  of  the  present  Mar 
quis  of  Walderhurst.  He  was  not  a  very  near 
relation,  but  he  was  the  next  of  kin.  He  was  a 
young  man  and  a  strong  one,  and  Walderhurst 
was  fifty-four  and  could  not  be  called  robust.  His 
medical  man  did  not  consider  him  a  particularly 
good  life,  though  he  was  not  often  ill. 

"He's  not  the  kind  of  chap  who  lives  to  be  a 
hundred  and  fifty.  I  '11  say  that  for  him,"  Alec 
Osborn  had  said  at  mess  after  dinner  had  made 
him  careless  of  speech,  and  he  had  grinned  not  too 
pleasantly  when  he  uttered  the  words.  "  The 
only  thing  that  would  completely  wipe  my  eye 
is  n't  as  likely  to  happen  to  him  as  to  most  men. 
He  's  unsentimental  and  level  headed,  and  does  n't 
like  marriage.  You  can  imagine  how  he  's  chivied 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  153 

by  women.  A  fellow  in  his  position  could  n't  be 
let  alone.  But  he  does  n't  like  marriage,  and  he's 
a  man  who  knows  jolly  well  what  he  likes  and 
what  he  does  n't.  The  only  child  died,  and  if  he 
does  n't  marry  again,  I  'm  in  a  safe  place.  Good 
Lord  !  the  difference  it  would  make !  "  and  his 
grin  extended  itself. 

It  was  three  months  after  this  that  the  Marquis 
of  Walderhurst  followed  Emily  Fox-Seton  out 
upon  the  heath,  and  finding  her  sitting  footsore 
and  depressed  in  spirit  beside  the  basket  of  Lady 
Maria's  fish,  asked  her  to  marry  him. 

When  the  news  reached  him,  Alec  Osborn 
went  and  shut  himself  up  in  his  quarters  and  blas 
phemed  until  his  face  was  purple  and  big  drops  of 
sweat  ran  down  it.  It  was  black  bad  luck  —  it 
was  black  bad  luck,  and  it  called  for  black  curses. 
What  the  articles  bf  furniture  in  the  room  in  the 
bungalow  heard  was  rather  awful,  but  Captain 
Osborn  did  not  feel  that  it  did  justice  to  the 
occasion. 

When  her  husband  strode  by  her  to  his  apart 
ment,  Mrs.  Osborn  did  not  attempt  to  follow 
him.  She  had  only  been  married  two  years,  but 


154  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

she  knew  his  face  too  well ;  and  she  also  knew 
too  well  all  the  meaning  of  the  fury  contained  in 
the  words  he  flung  at  her  as  he  hurled  himself  past 
her. 

"  Walderhurst  is  going  to  be  married  !  " 
Mrs.  Osborn  ran  into  her  own  room  and  sat 
down  clutching  at  her  hair  as  she  dropped  her  face 
in  her  little  dark  hands.  She  was  an  Anglo-Indian 
girl  who  had  never  been  home,  and  had  not  had 
much  luck  in  life  at  any  time,  and  her  worst  luck 
had  been  in  being  handed  over  by  her  people  to 
this  particular  man,  chiefly  because  he  was  the 
next  of  kin  to  Lord  Walderhurst.  She  was  a 
curious,  passionate  creature,  and  had  been  in  love 
with  him  in  her  way.  Her  family  had  been  poor 
and  barely  decently  disreputable.  She  had  lived 
on  the  outskirts  of  things,  full  of  intense  girlish 
vanity  and  yearnings  for  social  recognition,  poorly 
dressed,  passed  over  and  snubbed  by  people  she 
aspired  to  know  socially,  seeing  other  girls  with  less 
beauty  and  temperament  enjoying  flirtations  with 
smart  young  officers,  biting  her  tongue  out  with 
envy  and  bitterness  of  thwarted  spirit.  So  when 
Captain  Osborn  cast  an  eye  on  her  and  actually 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  155 

began  a  sentimental  episode,  her  relief  and  excite 
ment  at  finding  herself  counting  as  other  girls  did 
wrought  itself  up  into  a  passion.  Her  people  were 
prompt  and  sharp  enough  to  manage  the  rest,  and 
Osborn  was  married  before  he  knew  exactly 
whither  he  was  tending.  He  was  not  pleased  with 
himself  when  he  wakened  to  face  facts.  He  could 
only  console  himself  for  having  been  cleverly  led 
and  driven  into  doing  the  thing  he  did  not  want 
to  do,  by  the  facts  that  the  girl  was  interesting 
and  clever  and  had  a  good  deal  of  odd  un-English 
beauty. 

It  was  a  beauty  so  un-English  that  it  would 
perhaps  appear  to  its  greatest  advantage  in  the 
contrasts  afforded  by  life  in  England.  She  was  so 
dark,  of  heavy  hair  and  drooping-lidded  eyes  and 
fine  grained  skin,  and  so  sinuous  of  lithe,  slim 
body,  that  among  native  beauties  she  seemed  not 
to  be  sufficiently  separated  by  marks  of  race.  She 
had  tumbled  up  from  childhood  among  native 
servants,  who  were  almost  her  sole  companions, 
and  who  had  taught  her  curious  things.  She 
knew  their  stories  and  songs,  and  believed  in  more 
of  their  occult  beliefs  than  any  but  herself  knew. 


156  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

She  knew  things  which  made  her  interesting  to 
Alec  Osborn,  who  had  a  bullet  head  and  a  cruel 
lower  jaw,  despite  a  degree  of  the  ordinary  good 
looks.  The  fact  that  his  chances  were  good  for 
becoming  Marquis  of  Walderhurst  and  taking  her 
home  to  a  life  of  English  luxury  and  splendour 
was  a  thing  she  never  forgot.  It  haunted  her  in 
her  sleep.  She  had  often  dreamed  of  Oswyth 
Castle  and  of  standing  amidst  great  people  on  the 
broad  lawns  her  husband  had  described  feelingly 
during  tropical  days  when  they  had  sat  together 
panting  for  breath.  When  there  had  been  men 
tion  made  of  the  remote,  awful  possibility  that 
Walderhurst  might  surrender  to  the  siege  laid  to 
him,  she  had  turned  sick  at  the  thought.  It  made 
her  clench  her  hands  until  the  nails  almost  pressed 
into  the  skin  of  her  palms.  She  could  not  bear  it. 
She  had  made  Osborn  burst  into  a  big,  harsh 
laugh  one  day  when  she  had  hinted  to  him  that 
there  were  occult  things  to  be  done  which  might 
prevent  ill  luck.  He  had  laughed  first  and  scowled 
afterwards,  cynically  saying  that  she  might  as  well 
be  working  them  up. 

He  had  not  come  out  to  India  followed  by  re- 


EMILY   FOX-SETON'  157 

grets  and  affection.  He  had  been  a  black  sheep 
at  home,  and  had  rather  been  hustled  away  than 
otherwise.  If  he  had  been  a  more  admirable  kind 
of  fellow,  Walderhurst  would  certainly  have  made 
him  an  allowance;  but  his  manner  of  life  had  been 
such  as  the  Marquis  had  no  patience  with  in  men 
of  any  class,  and  especially  abhorred  in  men  whom 
the  accident  of  birth  connected  with  good  names. 
He  had  not  been  lavish  in  his  demonstrations  of 
interest  in  the  bullet-headed  young  man.  Osborn's 
personableness  was  not  of  a  kind  attractive  to  the 
unbiassed  male  observer.  Men  saw  his  cruel 
young  jowl  and  low  forehead,  and  noticed  that  his 
eyes  were  small.  He  had  a  good,  swaggering  mili 
tary  figure  to  which  uniform  was  becoming,  and 
a  kind  of  animal  good  looks  which  would  deterio 
rate  early.  His  colour  would  fix  and  deepen 
with  the  aid  of  steady  daily  drinking,  and  his 
features  would  coarsen  and  blur,  until  by  the  time 
he  was  forty  the  young  jowl  would  have  grown 
heavy  and  would  end  by  being  his  most  prominent 
feature. 

While  he  had  remained  in   England,   Walder 
hurst  had  seen  him  occasionally,  and  had  only  re- 


[58  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

marked  and  heard  unpleasant  things  of  him,  —  a 
tendency  to  selfish  bad  manners,  reckless  living, 
ind  low  flirtation.  He  once  saw  him  on  the  top 
af  a  bus  with  his  arm  round  the  waist  of  an  awful, 
giggling  shop-girl  kind  of  person,  who  was  adorned 
ivith  tremendous  feathers  and  a  thick  fringe  com 
ing  unfrizzled  with  the  heat  and  sticking  out  here 
and  there  in  straight  locks  on  her  moist  forehead. 
Osborn  thought  that  the  arm  business  had  been 
cleverly  managed  with  such  furtiveness  that  no  one 
could  see  it,  but  Walderhurst  was  driving  solemnly 
by  in  his  respectable  barouche,  and  he  found  himself 
gazing  through  his  monocle  directly  at  his  relative, 
and  seeing,  from  the  street  below,  the  point  at 
which  the  young  man's  arm  lost  itself  under  the 
profusely  beaded  short  cape.  A  dull  flush  rose  to 
his  countenance,  and  he  turned  away  without  show 
ing  any  sign  of  recognition ;  but  he  was  annoyed 
and  disgusted,  because  this  particular  kind  of  bla 
tantly  vulgar  bad  taste  was  the  sort  of  thing  he 
loathed.  It  was  the  sort  of  thing  which  made 
duchesses  of  women  who  did  alluring  "  turns  "  at 
music  halls  or  sang  suggestive  songs  in  comic 
opera,  and  transformed  into  the  chatelaines  of 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  159 

ancient  castles  young  persons  who  had  presided  at 
the  ribbon  counter.  He  saw  as  little  as  possible 
of  his  heir  presumptive  after  this,  and  if  the  truth 
were  told,  Captain  Alec  Osborn  was  something 
of  a  factor  in  the  affair  of  Miss  Emily  Fox-Seton. 
If  Walderhurst's  infant  son  had  lived,  or  if  Os 
born  had  been  a  refined,  even  if  dull,  fellow,  there 
are  ten  chances  to  one  his  lordship  would  have 
chosen  no  second  marchioness. 

Captain  Osborn's  life  in  India  had  not  ended 
in  his  making  no  further  debts.  He  was  not  a  man 
to  put  the  brake  on  in  the  matter  of  self-indul 
gence.  He  got  into  debt  so  long  as  a  shred  of 
credit  remained  to  him,  and  afterwards  he  tried  to 
add  to  his  resources  by  cards  and  betting  at  races. 
He  made  and  lost  by  turn,  and  was  in  a  desperate 
state  when  he  got  his  leave.  He  applied  for  it  be 
cause  he  had  conceived  the  idea  that  his  going 
home  as  a  married  man  might  be  a  good  thing  for 
him.  Hester,  it  seemed  not  at  all  improbable, 
might  accomplish  something  with  Walderhurst.  If 
she  talked  to  him  in  her  interesting  semi-Oriental 
way,  and  was  fervid  and  picturesque  in  her  story 
telling,  he  might  be  attracted  by  her.  She  had  her 


160  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

charm,  and  when  she  lifted  the  heavy  lids  of  her 
long  black  eyes  and  fixed  her  gaze  upon  her  hearer 
as  she  talked  about  the  inner  side  of  native  life, 
of  which  she  knew  such  curious,  intimate  things, 
people  always  listened,  even  in  India,  where  the 
thing  was  not  so  much  of  a  novelty,  and  in  Eng 
land  she  might  be  a  sort  of  sensation. 

Osborn  managed  to  convey  to  her  gradually, 
by  a  process  of  his  own,  a  great  deal  of  what  he 
wanted  her  to  do.  During  the  months  before  the 
matter  of  the  leave  was  quite  decided,  he  dropped 
a  word  here  and  there  which  carried  a  good  deal 
of  suggestion  to  a  mind  used  to  seizing  on  passing 
intimations.  The  woman  who  had  been  Hester's 
Ayah  when  she  was  a  child  had  become  her  maid. 
She  was  a  woman  with  a  wide,  silent  acquaintance 
with  her  own  people.  She  was  seldom  seen  talk 
ing  to  anyone  and  seldom  seemed  to  leave  the 
house,  but  she  always  knew  everything.  Her 
mistress  was  aware  that  if  at  any  time  she  chose  to 
ask  her  a  question  about  the  secret  side  of  things 
concerning  black  or  white  peoples,  she  would  re 
ceive  information  to  be  relied  upon.  She  felt  that 
she  could  have  heard  from  her  many  things  con- 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  161 

cerning  her  husband's  past,  present,  and  future,  and 
that  the  matter  of  the  probable  succession  was  fully 
comprehended  by  her. 

When  she  called  her  into  the  room  after  recover 
ing  outwardly  from  her  hour  of  desperation,  she 
saw  that  the  woman  was  already  aware  of  the  blow 
that  had  fallen  upon  the  household.  What  they 
said  to  each  other  need  not  be  recorded  here,  but 
there  was  more  in  the  conversation  than  the  mere 
words  uttered,  and  it  was  one  of  several  talks  held 
before  Mrs.  Osborn  sailed  for  England  with  her 
husband. 

"  He  may  be  led  into  taking  into  consideration 
the  fact  that  he  has  cut  the  ground  from  under  a 
fellow's  feet  and  left  him  dangling  in  the  air,"  said 
Osborn  to  his  wife.  "  Best  thing  will  be  to  make 
friends  with  the  woman,  hang  her  ! " 

"Yes,  Alec,  yes,"  Hester  Osborn  answered, 
just  a  little  feverishly.  "We  must  make  friends 
with  her.  They  say  she  is  a  good  sort  and  was 
frightfully  poor  herself." 

"  She  won't  be  poor  now,  hang  her !  "  remarked 
Captain  Osborn  with  added  fervour.  "  I  should 
like  to  break  her  neck  !  I  wonder  if  she  rides  ?  " 


162  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

"  I  'm  sure  she  has  not  been  well  enough  off  to 
do  anything  like  that." 

"  Good  idea  to  begin  to  teach  her."  And  he 
laughed  as  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  began  to  walk 
the  deck  with  a  fellow  passenger. 

It  was  these  people  Lord  Walderhurst  had  come 
to  prepare  her  for. 

"  Maria  has  told  you  about  them,  I  know,"  he 
said.  "  I  dare  say  she  has  been  definite  enough  to 
explain  that  I  consider  Osborn  altogether  unde 
sirable.  Under  the  veneer  of  his  knowledge  of 
decent  customs  he  is  a  cad.  I  am  obliged  to  be 
have  civilly  to  the  man,  but  I  dislike  him.  If  he 
had  been  born  in  a  low  class  of  life,  he  would  have 
been  a  criminal." 

"  Oh  !  "  Emily  exclaimed. 

"  Any  number  of  people  would  be  criminals  if 
circumstances  did  not  interfere.  It  depends  a  good 
deal  on  the  shape  of  one's  skull." 

u  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Emily  again,  "  do  you  think 
so?" 

She  believed  that  people  who  were  bad  were  bad 
from  preference,  though  she  did  not  at  all  under 
stand  the  preference.  She  had  accepted  from  her 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  163 

childhood  everything  she  had  ever  heard  said  in  a 
pulpit.  That  Walderhurst  should  propound  ideas 
such  as  ministers  of  the  Church  of  England  might 
regard  as  heretical  startled  her,  but  he  could  have 
said  nothing  startling  enough  to  shake  her  affec 
tionate  allegiance. 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  he  answered.  "  Osborn's  skull 
is  quite  the  wrong  shape." 

But  when,  a  short  time  after,  Captain  Osborn 
brought  the  skull  in  question  into  the  room,  cov 
ered  in  the  usual  manner  with  neatly  brushed, 
close-cropped  hair,  Emily  thought  it  a  very  nice 
shape  indeed.  Perhaps  a  trifle  hard  and  round- 
looking  and  law  of  forehead,  but  not  shelving  or 
bulging  as  the  heads  of  murderers  in  illustrated 
papers  generally  did.  She  owned  to  herself  that 
she  did  not  see  what  Lord  Walderhurst  evidently 
saw,  but  then  she  did  not  expect  of  herself  an  in 
telligence  profound  enough  to  follow  his  superior 
mental  flights. 

Captain  Osborn  was  well  groomed  and  well 
mannered,  and  his  demeanour  towards  herself  was 
all  that  the  most  conventional  could  have  de 
manded.  When  she  reflected  that  she  herself 


164  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

represented  in  a  way  the  possible  destruction  of  his 
hopes  of  magnificent  fortune,  she  felt  almost  ten 
derly  towards  him,  and  thought  his  easy  politeness 
wonderful.  Mrs.  Osborn,  too !  How  interesting 
and  how  beautitul  in  an  odd  way  Mrs.  Osborn 
was  !  Every  movement  of  her  exceeding  slimness 
was  curiously  graceful.  Emily  remembered  having 
read  novels  whose  heroines  were  described  as  "un 
dulating."  Mrs.  Osborn  was  undulating.  Her 
long,  drooping,  and  dense  black  eyes  were  quite 
unlike  other  girls'  eyes.  Emily  had  never  seen 
anything  like  them.  And  she  had  such  a  lovely, 
slow,  shy  way  of  lifting  them  to  look  at  people. 
She  was  obliged  to  look  up  at  tall  Emily.  She 
seemed  a  schoolgirl  as  she  stood  near  her.  Emily 
was  the  kind  of  mistaken  creature  whose  con 
science,  awakening  to  unnecessary  remorses,  causes 
its  owner  at  once  to  assume  all  the  burdens  which 
Fate  has  laid  upon  the  shoulders  of  others.  She 
began  to  feel  like  a  criminal  herself,  irrespective 
of  the  shape  of  her  skull.  Her  own  inordinate 
happiness  and  fortune  had  robbed  this  unoffending 
young  couple.  She  wished  that  it  had  not  been 
so,  and  vaguely  reproached  herself  without  reason- 


EMII/tf  EPX-SETON  165 

ing  the  matter  out  to  a  conclusion.  At  all  events, 
she  was  remorsefully  sympathetic  in  her  mental 
attitude  towards  Mrs.  Osborn,  and  being  sure 
that  she  was  frightened  of  her  husband's  august 
relative,  felt  nervous  herself  because  Lord  Walder- 
hurst  bore  himself  with  undated  courtesy  and 
kept  his  monocle  fixed  in  his  eye  throughout  the 
interview.  If  he  had  let  it  drop  and  allowed 
it  to  dangle  in  an  unbiassed  manner  from  its  cord, 
Emily  would  have  felt  more  comfortable,  because 
she  was  sure  his  demeanour  would  have  appeared 
a  degree  more  encouraging  to  the  Osborns. 

"  Are  you  glad  to  be  in  England  again  ?  "  she 
asked  Mrs.  Osborn. 

"  I  never  was  here  before,"  answered  the  young 
woman.  "  I  have  never  been  anywhere  but  in 
India." 

In  the  course  of  the  conversation  she  explained 
that  she  had  not  been  a  delicate  child,  and  also 
conveyed  that  even  if  she  had  been  one,  her  people 
could  not  have  afforded  to  send  her  home.  Instinct 
revealed  to  Emily  that  she  had  not  had  many  of 
the  good  things  of  life,  and  that  she  was  not  a 
creature  of  buoyant  spirits.  The  fact  that  she  had 


1 66  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

spent  a  good  many  hours  of  most  of  her  young 
days  in  reflecting  on  her  ill-luck  had  left  its  traces 
on  her  face,  particularly  in  the  depths  of  her  slow- 
moving,  black  eyes. 

They  had  come,  it  appeared,  in  the  course  of 
duty,  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  woman  who  was 
to  be  their  destruction.  To  have  neglected  to  do 
so  would  have  made  them  seem  to  assume  an  in 
discreet  attitude  towards  the  marriage. 

"  They  can't  like  it,  of  course,"  Lady  Maria 
summed  them  up  afterwards,  "but  they  have 
made  up  their  minds  to  lump  it  as  respectably  as 
possible." 

"  I  am  so  sorry  for  them,"  said  Emily. 

"  Of  course  you  are.  And  you  will  probably 
show  them  all  sorts  of  indiscreet  kindnesses,  but 
don't  be  too  altruistic,  my  good  Emily.  The  man 
is  odious,  and  the  girl  looks  like  a  native  beauty. 
She  rather  frightens  me." 

"  I  don't  think  Captain  Osborn  is  odious," 
Emily  answered.  "  And  she  is  pretty,  you  know. 
She  is  frightened  of  us,  really." 

Remembering  days  when  she  herself  had  been 
at  a  disadvantage  with  people  who  were  fortunate 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  167 

enough  to  be  of  importance,  and  recalling  what 
her  secret  tremor  before  them  had  been,  Emily 
was  very  nice  indeed  to  little  Mrs.  Osborn.  She 
knew  from  experience  things  which  would  be  of 
use  to  her — things  about  lodgings  and  things 
about  shops.  Osborn  had  taken  lodgings  in  Duke 
Street,  and  Emily  knew  the  quarter  thoroughly. 
Walderhurst  watched  her  being  nice,  through  his 
fixed  eyeglass,  and  he  decided  that  she  had  really  a 
very  good  manner.  Its  goodness  consisted  largely 
in  its  directness.  While  she  never  brought  forth 
unnecessarily  recollections  of  the  days  when  she 
had  done  other  people's  shopping  and  had  pur 
chased  for  herself  articles  at  sales  marked  ny^d.^ 
she  was  interestingly  free  from  any  embarrassment 
in  connection  with  the  facts.  Walderhurst,  who 
had  been  much  bored  by  himself  and  other  people 
in  time  past,  actually  found  that  it  gave  a  fillip 
to  existence  to  look  on  at  a  woman  who,  having 

3  O 

been  one  of  the  hardest  worked  of  the  genteel 
labouring  classes,  was  adapting  herself  to  the  role 
of  marchioness  by  the  simplest  of  processes,  and 
making  a  very  nice  figure  at  it  too,  in  her  entirely 
unbrilliant  way.  If  she  had  been  an  immensely 


168  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

clever  woman,  there  would  have  been  nothing 
special  in  it.  She  was  not  clever  at  all,  yet  Wal- 
derhurst  had  seen  her  produce  effects  such  as  a 
clever  woman  might  have  laboured  for  and  only 
attained  by  a  stroke  of  genius.  As,  for  instance, 
when  she  had  met  for  the  first  time  after  her  en 
gagement,  a  certain  particularly  detestable  woman 
of  rank,  to  whom  her  relation  to  Walderhurst  was 
peculiarly  bitter.  The  Duchess  of  Merwold  had 
counted  the  Marquis  as  her  own,  considering  him 
fitted  by  nature  to  be  the  spouse  of  her  eldest  girl, 
a  fine  young  woman  with  projecting  teeth,  who 
had  hung  fire.  She  felt  Emily  Fox-Seton's  incom 
prehensible  success  to  be  a  piece  of  impudent 
presumption,  and  she  had  no  reason  to  restrain  the 
expression  of  her  sentiments  so  long  as  she  conveyed 
them  by  methods  of  inference  and  inclusion. 

"  You  must  let  me  congratulate  you  very 
warmly,  Miss  Fox-Seton,"  she  said,  pressing  her 
hand  with  maternal  patronage.  "  Your  life  has 
changed  greatly  since  we  last  saw  each  other." 

41  Very  greatly  indeed,"  Emily  flushed  frankly 
in  innocent  gratitude  as  she  answered.  "  You  are 
very  kind.  Thank  you,  thank  you." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  169 

"  Yes,  a  great  change."  Walderhurst  saw  that 
her  smile  was  feline  and  asked  himself  what  the 
woman  was  going  to  say  next.  "  The  last  time 
we  met  you  called  to  ask  me  about  the  shopping 
you  were  to  do  for  me.  Do  you  remember? 
Stockings  and  gloves,  I  think." 

Walderhurst  observed  that  she  expected  Emily 
to  turn  red  and  show  herself  at  a  loss  before  the 
difficulties  of  the  situation.  He  was  on  the  point 
of  cutting  into  the  conversation  and  disposing  of 
the  matter  himself  when  he  realised  that  Emily 
was  neither  gaining  colour  nor  losing  it,  but  was 
looking  honestly  into  her  Grace's  eyes  with  just  a 
touch  of  ingenuous  regret. 

"  It  was  stockings,"  she  said.  "  There  were 
some  marked  down  to  one  arid  elevenpence  half 
penny  at  Barratt's.  They  were  really  quite  good 
for  the  price.  And  you  wanted  four  pairs.  And 
when  I  got  there  they  were  all  gone,  and  those  at 
two  and  three  were  not  the  least  bit  better.  I  was 
so  disappointed.  It  was  too  bad  ! " 

Walderhurst  fixed  his  monocle  firmly  to  conceal 
the  fact  that  he  was  verging  upon  a  cynical  grin. 
The  woman  was  known  to  be  the  stingiest  of  small 


170  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

great  persons  in  London,  her  economies  were  noted, 
and  this  incident  was  even  better  than  many  others 
society  had  already  rejoiced  over.  The  picture 
raised  in  the  minds  of  the  hearers  of  her  Grace 
foiled  in  the  purchase  of  stockings  marked  down  to 
is.  \\y-id.  would  be  a  source  of  rapture  for  some 
time  to  come.  And  Emily's  face  !  The  regretful 
kindness  of  it,  the  retrospective  sympathy  and 
candid  feeling!  It  was  incredibly  good! 

"  And  she  did  it  quite  by  accident !"  he  repeated 
to  himself  in  his  inward  glee.  "She  did  it  quite 
by  accident !  She  's  not  clever  enough  to  have 
done  it  on  purpose.  What  a  brilliantly  witty  crea 
ture  she  would  be  if  she  had  invented  it  ! " 

As  she  had  been  able  unreluctantly  to  recall  her 
past  upon  this  occasion,  so  she  was  able  to  draw 
for  Mrs.  Osborn's  benefit  from  the  experience  it 
had  afforded  her.  She  wanted  to  make  up  to  her, 
in  such  ways  as  she  could,  for  the  ill  turn  she  had 
inadvertently  done  her.  As  she  had  at  once  ranged 
herself  as  an  aid  on  the  side  of  Lady  Agatha,  so  she 
ranged  herself  entirely  without  obtrusiveness  on  the 
side  of  the  Osborns. 

"  It 's  true  that  she  's  a  good  sort,"  Hester  said 


EMILY    FOX-SETON 


171 


when  they  went  away.  "  Her  days  of  being  hard 
up  are  not  far  enough  away  to  be  forgotten.  She 
has  n't  any  affectation,  at  any  rate.  It  makes  it 
easier  to  stand  her." 

"  She  looks  like  a  strong  woman,"  said  Osborn. 
"  Walderhurst  got  a  good  deal  for  his  money. 
She  '11  make  a  strapping  British  matron." 

Hester  winced  and  a  dusky  red  shot  up  in  her 
cheek.  "  So  she  will,"  she  sighed. 

It  was  quite  true,  and  the  truer  it  was  the  worse 
for  people  who  despairingly  hung  on  and  were  fool 
ish  enough  to  hope  against  hope. 


HE  marriage  of  Lady  Agatha 
came  first,  and  was  a  sort  of 
pageant.  The  female  writers 
for  fashion  papers  lived  upon 
it  for  weeks  before  it  oc 
curred  and  for  some  time 
after.  There  were  numberless  things  to  be  written 
about  it.  Each  flower  of  the  garden  of  girls  was  to 
be  described,  with  her  bridesmaid's  dress,  and  the 
exquisite  skin  and  eyes  and  hair  which  would  stamp 
her  as  the  beauty  of  her  season  when  she  came  out. 
There  yet  remained  five  beauties  in  Lady  Clara- 
way's  possession,  and  the  fifth  was  a  baby  thing  of 
six,  who  ravished  all  beholders  as  she  toddled  into 
church  carrying  her  sister's  train,  aided  by  a  little 
boy  page  in  white  velvet  and  point  lace. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON,  173 

The  wedding  was  the  most  radiant  of  the  year. 
It  was  indeed  a  fairy  pageant,  of  youth  and  beauty, 
and  happiness  and  hope. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  features  of  the  occa 
sion  was  the  presence  of  the  future  Marchioness  of 
Walderhurst,  "the  beautiful  Miss  Fox-Seton." 
The  fashion  papers  were  very  strenuous  on  the  sub 
ject  of  Emily's  beauty.  One  of  them  mentioned 
that  the  height  and  pose  of  her  majestic  figure  and 
the  cut  of  her  profile  suggested  the  Venus  of  Milo. 
Jane  Cupp  cut  out  every  paragraph  she  could  find 
and,  after  reading  them  aloud  to  her  young  man, 
sent  them  in  a  large  envelope  to  Chichester.  Emily, 
faithfully  endeavouring  to  adjust  herself  to  the 
demands  of  her  approaching  magnificence,  was  sev 
eral  times  alarmed  by  descriptions  of  her  charms 
and  accomplishments  which  she  came  upon  acci 
dentally  in  the  course  of  her  reading  of  various 
periodicals. 

The  Walderhurst  wedding  was  dignified  and  dis 
tinguished,  but  not  radiant.  The  emotions  Emily 
passed  through  during  the  day  —  from  her  awaken 
ing  almost  at  dawn  to  the  silence  of  her  bedroom 
at  South  Audley  Street,  until  evening  closed  in 


174  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

upon  her  sitting  in  the  private  parlour  of  an  hotel  in 
the  company  of  the  Marquis  of  Walderhurst  —  it 
would  require  too  many  pages  to  describe. 

Her  first  realisation  of  the  day  brought  with  it 
the  physical  consciousness  that  her  heart  was 
thumping  —  steadily  thumping,  which  is  quite  a 
different  matter  from  the  ordinary  beating  —  at  the 
realisation  of  what  had  come  at  last.  An  event 
which  a  year  ago  the  wildest  dream  could  not  have 
depicted  for  her  was  to-day  an  actual  fact ;  a  for 
tune  such  as  she  would  have  thought  of  with  awe 
if  it  had  befallen  another  woman,  had  befallen  her 
unpretending  self.  She  passed  her  hand  over  her 
forehead  and  gasped  as  she  thought  of  it. 

"  I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  get  accustomed  to  it 
and  not  be  a — a  disappointment,"  she  said. 
"  Oh  !  "  with  a  great  rising  wave  of  a  blush,  "  how 
good  of  him  !  How  can  I  ever  —  " 

She  lived  through  the  events  of  the  day  in  a  sort 
of  dream  within  a  dream.  When  Jane  Cupp 
brought  her  tea,  she  found  herself  involuntarily 
making  a  mental  effort  to  try  to  look  as  if  she  was 
really  awake.  Jane,  who  was  an  emotional 
creature,  was  inwardly  so  shaken  by  her  feelings 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  175 

that  she  herself  had  stood  outside  the  door  a  few 
moments  biting  her  lips  to  keep  them  from  trem 
bling,  before  she  dared  entirely  trust  herself  to  come 
in.  Her  hand  was  far  from  steady  as  she  set  down 
the  tray. 

"  Good  morning,  Jane,"  Emily  said,  by  way  of 
trying  the  sound  of  her  voice. 

"  Good  morning,  miss,"  Jane  answered,  "  It 's 
a  beautiful  morning,  miss.  I  hope  —  you  are 
very  well  ? " 

And  then  the  day  had  begun. 

Afterwards  it  marched  on  with  solemn  thrill 
and  stately  movement  through  hours  of  wondrous 
preparation  for  an  imposing  function,  through  the 
splendid  gravity  of  the  function  itself,  accompanied 
by  brilliant  crowds  collected  and  looking  on  in  a 
fashionable  church,  and  motley  crowds  collected  to 
look  on  outside  the  edifice,  the  latter  pushing  and 
jostling  each  other  and  commenting  in  more  or  less 
respectful  if  excited  undertones,  but  throughout 
devouring  with  awe-struck  or  envious  eyes.  Great 
people  whom  Emily  had  only  known  through  the 
frequent  mention  of  their  names  in  newspapers 
or  through  their  relationship  or  intimacy  with  her 


176  EMILY   FOX-SETONl 

patrons,  came  to  congratulate  her  in  her  role  of  bride. 
She  seemed  to  be  for  hours  the  centre  of  a  surging, 
changing  crowd,  and  her  one  thought  was  to  bear 
herself  with  an  outward  semblance  of  composure. 
No  one  but  herself  could  know  that  she  was 
saying  internally  over  and  over  again,  to  steady 
herself,  making  it  all  seem  real,  "  I  am  being 
married.  This  is  my  wedding.  I  am  Emily  Fox- 
Seton  being  married  to  the  Marquis  of  Walder- 
hurst.  For  his  sake  I  must  not  look  stupid  or 
excited.  I  am  not  in  a  dream." 

How  often  she  said  this  after  the  ceremony  was 
over  and  they  returned  to  South  Audley  Street,  for 
the  wedding  breakfast  could  scarcely  be  computed. 
When  Lord  Walderhurst  helped  her  from  the 
carriage  and  she  stepped  on  to  the  strip  of  red 
carpet  and  saw  the  crowd  on  each  side  of  it  and 
the  coachman  and  footmen  with  their  big  white 
wedding  favours  and  the  line  of  other  equipages 
coming  up,  her  head  whirled. 

"  That  's  the  Marchioness,"  a  young  woman 
with  a  bandbox  exclaimed,  nudging  her  companion. 
"That 's  'er !  Looks  a  bit  pale,  does  n't  she  ?  " 

"  But,  oh  Gawd  !    look  at  them  di-monds  an/ 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  177 

pearls — jess  look  at  'em!"  cried  the  other. 
"  Wish  it  was  me." 

The  breakfast  seemed  splendid  and  glittering  and 
long;  people  seemed  splendid  and  glittering  and  far 
off;  and  by  the  time  Emily  went  to  change  her 
bridal  magnificence  for  her  travelling  costume  she 
had  borne  as  much  strain  as  she  was  equal  to. 
She  was  devoutly  grateful  for  the  relief  of  finding 
herself  alone  in  her  bedroom  with  Jane  Cupp. 

"  Jane,"  she  said,  "  you  know  exactly  how  many 
minutes  I  can  dress  in  and  just  when  I  must  get 
into  the  carnage.  Can  you  give  me  five  minutes 
to  lie  down  quite  flat  and  dab  my  forehead  with  eau 
de  cologne  ?  Five  minutes,  Jane.  But  be  quite 
sure." 

"Yes,  miss — I  do  beg  pardon  —  my  lady. 
You  can  have  five  —  safe." 

She  took  no  more, — Jane  went  into  the  dress 
ing-room  and  stood  near  its  door,  holding  the 
watch  in  her  hand,  —  but  even  five  minutes  did  her 
good. 

She  felt  less  delirious  when  she  descended  the 
stairs  and  passed  through  the  crowds  again  on 
Lord  Walderhurst's  arm,  She  seemed  to  walk 


178  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

through  a  garden  in  resplendent  bloom.  Then 
there  were  the  red  carpet  once  more,  and  the  street 
people,  and  the  crowd  of  carriages  and  liveries,  and 
big,  white  favours. 

Inside  the  carriage,  and  moving  away  to  the  echo 
of  the  street  people's  cheer,  she  tried  to  turn  and 
look  at  Lord  Walderhurst  with  an  unalarmed,  if 
faint,  smile. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  with  the  originality  which 
marked  him,  "  it  is  really  over  !  " 

"  Yes,"  Emily  agreed  with  him.  u  And  I  never 
can  forget  Lady  Maria's  goodness." 

Walderhurst  gazed  at  her  with  a  dawning  in 
quiry  in  his  mind.  He  himself  did  not  know  what 
the  inquiry  was.  But  it  was  something  a  trifle 
stimulating.  It  had  something  to  do  with  the  way 
in  which  she  had  carried  herself  throughout  the 
whole  thing.  Really  few  women  could  have  done 
it  as  well.  The  pale  violet  of  her  travelling 
costume  which  was  touched  with  sable  was  be 
coming  to  her  fine,  straight  figure.  And  at  the 
moment  her  eyes  rested  on  his  with  the  suggestion 
of  trustful  appeal.  Despite  the  inelasticity  of  his 
mind,  he  vaguely  realised  his  bridegroom  honours. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  179 

"  I  can  begin  now,"  he  said  with  stiff  lightness, 
if  such  a  paradox  can  be,  "  to  address  you  as  the 
man  in  Esmond  addressed  his  wife.  I  can  call  you 
'  my  lady.'  " 

"  Oh !  "  she  said,  still  trying  to  smile,  but 
quivering. 

"  You  look  very  nice,"  he  said.  "  Upon  my 
word  you  do." 

And  kissed  her  trembling  honest  mouth  almost 
as  if  he  had  been  a  man  —  not  quite  —  but  almost. 


HEY  began  the  new  life  at 
Palstrey  Manor,  which  was 
ancient  and  most  beautiful. 
Nothing  Walderhurst  owned 
was  as  perfect  an  example  of 
olden  time  beauty,  and  as 
wonderful  for  that  reason.  Emily  almost  wept  be 
fore  the  loveliness  of  it,  though  it  would  not  have 
been  possible  for  her  to  explain  or  particularise 
the  grounds  for  her  emotion.  She  knew  nothing 
whatever  of  the  venerable  wonders  of  the  architec 
ture.  To  her  the  place  looked  like  an  immense, 
low-built,  rambling  fairy  palace  —  the  palace  of 
some  sleeping  beauty  during  whose  hundred  years 
of  slumber  rich  dark-green  creepers  had  climbed 
and  overgrown  its  walls  and  towers,  enfolding  and 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  181 

festooning  them  with  leaves  and  tendrils  and  actual 
branches.  The  huge  park  held  an  enchanted 
forest  of  trees;  the  long  avenue  of  giant  limes, 
their  writhen  limbs  arching  and  interlocking,  their 
writhen  roots  deep  in  velvet  moss,  was  an  approach 
suited  to  a  fairy  story. 

During  her  first  month  at  Palstrey  Emily  went 
about  still  in  her  dream.  It  became  more  a  dream 
every  day.  The  old  house  was  part  of  it,  the  end 
less  rooms,  the  wonderful  corridors,  the  gardens 
with  their  revelations  of  winding  walks,  labyrinths 
of  evergreens,  and  grass  paths  leading  into  beauti 
ful  unexpected  places,  where  one  suddenly  came 
upon  deep,  clear  pools  where  water  plants  grew  and 
slow  carp  had  dreamed  centuries  away.  The 
gardens  caused  Emily  to  disbelieve  in  the  existence 
of  Mortimer  Street,  but  the  house  at  times  caused 
her  to  disbelieve  in  herself.  The  picture  gallery 
especially  had  this  effect  upon  her.  The  men  and 
women,  once  as  alive  as  her  everyday  self,  now 
gazing  down  at  her  from  their  picture  frames 
sometimes  made  her  heart  beat  as  if  she  stood  in 
the  presence  of  things  eerie.  Their  strange,  rich, 


182  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

ugly,  or  beautiful  garments,  their  stolid  or  fervid, 
ugly  or  beautiful,  faces,  seemed  to  demand  some 
thing  of  her ;  at  least  she  had  just  enough 
imagination  to  feel  somewhat  as  if  they  did. 
Walderhurst  was  very  kind  to  her,  but  she  was 
afraid  she  might  bore  him  by  the  exceeding  igno 
rance  of  her  questions  about  people  whom  he  had 
known  from  his  childhood  as  his  own  kith  and 
kin.  It  was  not  unlikely  that  one  might  have 
become  so  familiar  with  a  man  in  armour  or  a 
woman  in  a  farthingale  that  questions  connected 
with  them  might  seem  silly.  Persons  whose  an 
cestors  had  always  gazed  intimately  at  them  from 
walls  might  not  unnaturally  forget  that  there  were 
other  people  to  whom  they  might  wear  only  the 
far-away  aspect  of  numbers  in  catalogues  of  the 
Academy,  or  exhibitions  of  that  order. 

There  was  a  very  interesting  catalogue  of  the 
Palstrey  pictures,  and  Emily  found  and  studied  it 
with  deep  interest.  She  cherished  a  touching 
secret  desire  to  know  what  might  be  discoverable 
concerning  the  women  who  had  been  Mar 
chionesses  of  Walderhurst  before.  None  of  them 
but  herself,  she  gathered,  had  come  to  their  hus- 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  185 

bands  from  bed-sitting  rooms  in  obscure  streets. 
There  had  been  noble  Hyrsts  in  the  reign  of  Henry 
I.,  and  the  period  since  then  elapsed  had  afforded 
time  for  numerous  bridals.  Lady  Walderhurst  was 
overcome  at  moments  by  her  reflections  upon  what 
lay  behind  and  before  her,  but  not  being  a  complex 
person  or  of  fervid  imagination,  she  was  spared  by 
nature  the  fevers  of  complex  emotions. 

In  fact,  after  a  few  weeks  had  passed  she  came 
out  of  her  dream  and  found  her  happiness  enduring 
and  endurable.  Each  day's  awakening  was  a  de 
light  to  her,  and  would  probably  be  so  to  the  end 
of  her  existence,  absolutely  because  she  was  so 
sane  and  uncomplex  a  creature.  To  be  deftly 
assisted  in  her  dressing  by  Jane  Cupp,  and  to  know 
that  each  morning  she  might  be  fittingly  and  be 
comingly  attired  without  anxiety  as  to  where  her 
next  gown  was  to  come  from,  was  a  lovely  thing. 
To  enjoy  the  silent,  perfect  workings  of  the  great 
household,  to  drive  herself  or  be  driven,  to  walk 
and  read,  to  loiter  through  walled  gardens  and 
hothouses  at  will,  —  such  things  to  a  healthy  wo 
man  with  an  unobscured  power  of  enjoyment 
were  luxuries  which  could  not  pall. 


1 84  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

Walderhust  found  her  an  actual  addition  to  his 
comfort.  She  was  never  in  the  way.  She  seemed 
to  have  discovered  the  trick  of  coming  and  going 
undisturbingly.  She  was  docile  and  affectionate, 
but  not  in  the  least  sentimental.  He  had  known 
men  whose  first  years  of  marriage,  not  to  speak 
of  the  first  months,  had  been  rendered  unbear 
able  by  the  fact  that  their  wives  were  constantly 
demanding  or  expecting  the  expression  of  senti 
ments  which  unsentimental  males  had  not  at  their 
fingers'  ends.  So  the  men  had  been  annoyed  or 
bored,  and  the  women  had  been  dissatisfied.  Emily 
demanded  nothing  of  the  sort,  and  was  certainly 
not  dissatisfied.  She  looked  very  handsome  and 
happy.  Her  looks  positively  improved,  and  when 
people  began  to  call  and  she  to  pay  visits,  she  was 
very  much  liked.  He  had  certainly  been  quite 
right  in  deciding  to  ask  her  to  marry  him.  If  she 
had  a  son,  he  should  congratulate  himself  greatly. 
The  more  he  saw  of  Osborn  the  more  he  disliked 
him.  It  appeared  that  there  was  a  prospect  of  a 
child  there. 

This  last  was  indeed  true,  and  Emily  had  been 
much  touched  and  awakened  to  sympathy.  It 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  185 

had  gradually  become  revealed  to  her  that  the 
Osborns  were  poorer  than  they  could  decently 
admit.  Emily  had  discovered  that  they  could  not 
even  remain  in  the  lodgings  in  Duke  Street,  though 
she  did  not  know  the  reason,  which  was  that 
Captain  Osborn  had  been  obliged  to  pay  certain 
moneys  to  stave  off  a  scandal  not  entirely  uncon 
nected  with  the  young  woman  his  arm  had  en 
circled  the  day  Walderhurst  had  seen  him  on  the 
top  of  the  bus.  He  was  very  well  aware  that  if 
he  was  to  obtain  anything  from  Lord  Walderhurst, 
there  were  several  things  which  must  be  kept 
entirely  dark.  Even  a  scandal  belonging  to  the 
past  could  be  made  as  unpleasant  as  an  error  of 
to-day.  Also  the  young  woman  of  the  bead  cape 
knew  how  to  manage  him.  But  they  must  remove 
to  cheaper  lodgings,  and  the  rooms  in  Duke  Street 
had  been  far  from  desirable. 

Lady  Walderhurst  came  in  one  morning  from  a 
walk,  with  a  fresh  colour  and  bright  eyes,  and  before 
taking  off  her  hat  went  to  her  husband's  study. 

"May  I  come  in  ?  " 

Walderhurst  had  been  writing  some  uninterest 
ing  letters  and  looked  up  with  a  smile. 


186  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

u  Certainly,"  he  answered.  "  What  a  colour 
you  have  !  Exercise  agrees  with  you.  You  ought 
to  ride." 

"That  was  what  Captain  Osborn  said.  If  you 
don't  mind,  I  should  like  to  ask  you  something." 

"  I  don't  mind.  You  are  a  reasonable  woman, 
Emily.  One  's  safe  with  you." 

"  It  is  something  connected  with  the  Osborns." 

"Indeed!"  chilling  slightly.  "I  don't  care 
about  them,  you  know." 

"  You  don't  dislike  her,  do  you  ?  " 

"No-o,  not  exactly." 

"She's  —  the  truth  is,  she  is  not  at  all  well," 
with  a  trifle  of  hesitance ;  "  she  ought  to  be  better 
taken  care  of  than  she  is  in  lodgings,  and  they 
are  obliged  to  take  very  cheap  ones." 

"  If  he  had  been  a  more  respectable  fellow  his 
circumstances  would  have  been  different,"  rather 
stiffly. 

Emily  felt  alarmed.  She  had  not  dreamed  of  the 
temerity  of  any  remark  suggestive  of  criticism. 

"  Yes,"  hastily,  "  of  course.  I  am  sure  you 
know  best;  but  —  I  thought  perhaps  —  " 

Walderhurst  liked  her  timidity.     To  see  a  fine, 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  187 

tall,  upstanding  creature  colour  in  that  way  was  not 
disagreeable  when  one  realised  that  she  coloured 
because  she  feared  she  might  offend  one. 

"  What  did  you  think  '  perhaps  '  ?  "  was  his 
lenient  response. 

Her  colour  grew  warmer,  but  this  time  from  a 
sense  of  relief,  because  he  was  evidently  not  as  dis 
pleased  as  he  might  have  been. 

"I  took  a  long  walk  this  morning,"  she  said. 
"I^went  through  the  High  Wood  and  came  out 
by  the  place  called  The  Kennel  Farm.  I  was 
thinking  a  good  deal  of  poor  Mrs.  Osborn  be 
cause  I  had  heard  from  her  this  morning,  and  she 
seemed  so  unhappy.  I  was  looking  at  her  letter 
again  when  I  turned  into  the  lane  leading  to  the 
house.  Then  I  saw  that  no  one  was  living  there, 
and  I  could  not  help  going  in  to  look  —  it  is  such 
a  delightful  old  building,  with  its  queer  windows 
and  chimneys,  and  the  ivy  which  seems  never  to 
have  been  clipped.  The  house  is  so  roomy  and 
comfortable —  I  peeped  in  at  windows  and  saw  big 
fireplaces  with  benches  inside  them.  It  seems  a 
pity  that  such  a  place  should  not  be  lived  in 
and  —  well,  I  thought  how  kind  it  would  be  of 


1 88  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

you  to  lend  it  to  the  Osborns  while  they   are   in 

England." 

"  It  would  indeed  be  kind,"  remarked  his  lord 
ship,  without  fervour. 

Her  momentary  excitement  led  Emily  to  take 
the  liberty  of  putting  out  her  hand  to  touch  his. 
She  always  felt  as  if  connubial  familiarities  were 
rather  a  liberty ;  at  least  she  had  not,  so  far,  been 
able  to  overcome  a  feeling  rather  of  that  order. 
And  this  was  another  thing  Walderhurst  by  no 
means  disliked.  He  himself  was  not  aware  that 
he  was  a  man  with  a  good  deal  of  internal  vanity 
which  enjoyed  soothing  food.  In  fact,  he  had  not 
a  sufficiently  large  brain  to  know  very  much  about 
himself  or  to  be  able  to  analyse  his  reasons  for  lik 
ing  or  disliking  people  or  things.  He  thought  he 
knew  his  reasons  for  his  likes  and  dislikes,  but  he 
was  frequently  very  far  away  from  the  clear,  im 
personal  truth  about  them.  Only  the  brilliant 
logic  and  sensitiveness  of  genius  really  approaches 
knowledge  of  itself,  and  as  a  result  it  is  usually  ex 
tremely  unhappy.  Walderhurst  was  never  un 
happy.  He  was  sometimes  dissatisfied  or  annoyed, 
but  that  was  as  far  as  his  emotions  went. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  189 

Being  pleased  by  the  warm  touch  of  Emily's 
hand,  he  patted  her  wrist  and  looked  agreeably 
marital. 

"  The  place  was  built  originally  for  a  family 
huntsman,  and  the  pack  was  kept  there.  That  is 
why  it  is  called  The  Kennel  Farm.  When  the 
last  lease  fell  out  it  remained  unlet  because  I  don't 
care  for  an  ordinary  tenant.  It 's  the  kind  of 
house  that  is  becoming  rare,  and  the  bumpkin 
farmer  and  his  family  don't  value  antiquities." 

"  If  it  were  furnished  as  it  could  be  furnished," 
said  Emily,  "  it  would  be  beautiful.  One  can  get 
old  things  in  London  if  one  can  afford  them.  I  've 
seen  them  when  I  've  been  shopping.  They  are 
not  cheap,  but  you  can  get  them  if  you  really 
search." 

"  Would  you  like  to  furnish  it  ?  "  Walderhurst 
inquired.  The  consciousness  that  he  could,  if  he 
chose,  do  the  utmost  thing  of  its  kind  in  this  way, 
at  the  moment  assumed  a  certain  proportion  of 
interest  to  him  under  the  stimulation  of  the  won 
der  and  delight  which  leaped  into  Emily's  eyes  as 
the  possibility  confronted  her.  Having  been  born 
without  imagination,  his  wealth  had  not  done 


i9o  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

for  him  anything  out  of  the  ordinary  every-day 
order. 

"  Would  I  like  to  do  it  ?  Oh,  dear  !  "  she  ex 
claimed.  "  Why,  in  all  my  life  I  have  never 
dreamed  of  being  able  to  do  such  things." 

That,  of  course,  was  true,  he  reflected,  and  the 
fact  added  to  his  appreciation  of  the  moment. 
There  were,  of  course,  many  people  to  whom  it 
would  be  impossible  to  contemplate  the  spending 
of  a  sum  of  money  of  any  importance  in  the  in 
dulgence  of  a  wish  founded  on  mere  taste.  He 
had 'not  thought  of  the  thing  particularly  in  detail 
before,  and  now  that  he  realised  the  significance 
of  the  fact  as  a  fact,  Emily  had  afforded  him  a  new 
sensation. 

"  You  may  do  it  now,  if  you  wish,"  he  said.  "  I 
once  went  over  the  place  with  an  architect,  and  he 
said  the  whole  thing  could  be  made  comfortable 
and  the  atmosphere  of  the  period  wholly  retained 
for  about  a  thousand  pounds.  It  is  not  really 
dilapidated  and  it  is  worth  saving.  The  gables  and 
chimneys  are  very  fine.  I  will  attend  to  that,  and 
you  can  do  the  rest  in  your  own  way." 

"It  may  take  a  good  deal  of  money  to  buy  the 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  191 

old  things,"  gasped  Emily.  "  They  are  not  cheap 
in  these  days.  People  have  found  out  that  they 
are  wanted." 

"  It  won't  cost  twenty  thousand  pounds,"  Wal- 
derhurst  answered.  "  It  is  a  farm-house  after  all, 
and  you  are  a  practical  woman.  Restore  it.  You 
have  my  permission." 

Emily  put  her  hands  over  her  eyes.  This  was 
being  the  Marchioness  of  Walderhurst,  and  made 
Mortimer  Street  a  thing  still  more  incredible. 
When  she  dropped  her  hands,  she  laughed  even 
a  trifle  hysterically. 

"I  could  n't  thank  you,"  she  said.  "It  is  as  I 
said.  I  never  quite  believed  there  were  people  who 
were  able  to  think  of  doing  such  things." 

"  There  are  such  people,"  he  said.  "  You  are 
one  of  them." 

"And  —  and  —  "  She  put  it  to  him  with  a 
sudden  recollection  of  the  thing  her  emotions  had 
momentarily  swept  away.  "Oh!  I  must  not  for 
get,  because  I  am  so  pleased.  When  it  is  fur 
nished —  " 

"  Oh  !  the  Osborns  ?  Well,  we  will  let  them 
have  it  for  a  few  months,  at  any  rate." 


192  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  They  will  be  so  thankful"  emotionally.  "  You 
will  be  doing  them  such  a  favour." 

"  I  am  doing  it  for  you,  not  for  them.  I  like  to 
see  you  pleased." 

She  went  to  take  off  her  hat  with  moisture  in 
her  eyes,  being  overpowered  by  his  munificence. 
When  she  reached  her  room  she  walked  about  a 
little,  because  she  was  excited,  and  then  sat  down 
to  think  of  the  relief  her  next  letter  would  carry  to 
Mrs.  Osborn.  Suddenly  she  got  up,  and,  going 
to  her  bedside,  knelt  down.  She  respectfully 
poured  forth  devout  thanks  to  the  Deity  she 
appealed  to  when  she  aided  in  the  intoning  of  the 
Litany  on  Sundays.  Her  conception  of  this  Power 
was  of  the  simplest  conventional  nature.  She 
would  have  been  astonished  and  frightened  if  she 
had  been  told  that  she  regarded  the  Omnipotent 
Being  as  possessing  many  of  the  attributes  of  the 
Marquis  of  Walderhurst.  This  was,  in  fact,  true 
without  detracting  from  her  reverence  in  either 
case. 


HE  Osborns  were  breakfast 
ing  in  their  unpleasant  sit 
ting-room  in  Duke  Street 
when  Lady  Walderhurst's 
letter  arrived.  The  toast  was 
tough  and  smoked,  and  the 
eggs  were  of  the  variety 
labelled  "  18  a  shilling"  in  the  shops;  the  apart 
ment  was  also  redolent  of  kippered  herring,  and 
Captain  Osborn  was  scowling  over  the  landlady's 
weekly  bill  when  Hester  opened  the  envelope 
stamped  with  a  coronet.  (Each  time  Emily 
wrote  a  note  and  found  herself  confronting  the 
coronet  on  the  paper,  she  blushed  a  little  and  felt 
that  she  must  presently  awake  from  her  dream.) 
Mrs.  Osborn  herself  was  looking  far  from  amia 
ble.  She  was  ill  and  nervous  and  irritable,  and 


194  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

had,  in  fact,  just  been  crying  and  wishing  that  she 
was  dead,  which  had  given  rise  to  unpleasantness 
between  herself  and  her  husband,  who  was  not  in 
the  mood  to  feel  patient  with  nerves. 

"  Here 's  one  from  the  Marchioness,"  she 
remarked  slightingly. 

"  I  have  had  none  from  the  Marquis,"  sneered 
Osborn.  "  He  might  have  condescended  a  reply 
—  the  cold-blooded  beggar  !  " 

Hester  was  reading  her  letter.  As  she  turned 
the  first  page  her  expression  changed.  As  has 
previously  been  suggested,  the  epistolary  methods 
of  Lady  Walderhurst  were  neither  brilliant  nor 
literary,  and  yet  Mrs.  Osborn  seemed  to  be 
pleased  by  what  she  read.  During  the  reading  of 
a  line  or  so  she  wore  an  expression  of  slowly  ques 
tioning  wonder,  which,  a  little  later  on,  settled  into 
relief. 

"  I  can  only  say  I  think  it 's  very  decent  of 
them,"  she  ejaculated  at  last;  "really  decent!" 

Alec  Osborn  looked  up,  still  scowlingly. 

"  I  don't  see  any  cheque,"  he  observed.  "That 
would  be  the  most  decent  thing.  It 's  the  thing 
we  want  most,  with  this  damned  woman  sending  in 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  195 

bills  like  this  for  the  fourth-rate  things  we  live  on, 
and  for  her  confounded  tenth-rate  rooms." 

"  This  is  better  than  cheques.  It  means  our 
having  something  we  could  n't  hope  for  cheques 
enough  to  pay  for.  They  are  offering  to  lend  us  a 
beautiful  old  place  to  live  in  for  the  rest  of  our 
stay." 

"  What !  "  Osborn  exclaimed.     "  Where  ?  " 

"  Near  Palstrey  Manor,  where  they  are  staying 
now." 

"  Near  Palstrey  !  How  near?  "  He  had  been 
slouching  in  his  chair  and  now  sat  up  and  leaned 
forward  on  the  table.  He  was  eager. 

Hester  referred  to  the  letter  again. 

"  She  does  n't  say.  It  is  a  sort  of  antiquity,  I 
gather.  It 's  called  The  Kennel  Farm.  Have 
you  ever  been  to  Palstrey  ? " 

"  Not  as  a  guest."  He  was  generally  somewhat 
sardonic  when  he  spoke  of  anything  connected  with 
Walderhurst.  "  But  once  I  was  in  the  nearest 
county  town  by  chance  and  rode  over.  By 
Jove  !  "  starting  a  little,  "  I  wonder  if  it  can  be 
a  rum  old  place  I  passed  and  reined  in  to  have  a 
look  at.  I  hope  it  is." 


i96  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  It 's  near  enough  to  the  Manor  to  be  con 
venient." 

"  Do  you  think,"  hesitating,  "  that  we  shall  see 
much  of  them  ?  " 

"We  shall  if  we  manage  things  decently.  She 
likes  you,  and  she's  the  kind  of  woman  to  be  sym 
pathising  and  make  a  fuss  over  another  woman  — 
particularly  one  who  is  under  the  weather  and  can 
be  sentimentalised  over." 

Hester  was  pushing  crumbs  about  on  the  table 
cloth  with  her  knife,  and  a  dull  red  showed  itself 
on  her  cheek. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  make  capital  of —  circum 
stances,"  she  said  sullenly.  "  I  won't." 

She  was  not  a  woman  easily  managed,  and 
Osborn  had  had  reason  on  more  than  one  occasion 
to  realise  a  certain  wicked  stubbornness  in  her. 
There  was  a  look  in  her  eye  now  which  fright 
ened  him.  It  was  desperately  necessary  that  she 
should  be  kept  in  a  tractable  mood.  As  she  was 
a  girl  with  affections,  and  he  was  a  man  without 
any,  he  knew  what  to  do. 

He   got  up  and  went  to  her  side,   putting  his 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  197 

arm  round  her  shoulders  as  he  sat  in  a  chair  near 
her.  "  Now,  little  woman,"  he  said.  "  Now  ! 
For  God's  sake  don't  take  it  that  way.  Don't 
think  I  don't  understand  how  you  feel." 

"  I  don't  believe  you  know  anything  about  the 
way  I  feel,"  she  said,  setting  her  narrow  white  teeth 
and  looking  more  like  a  native  woman  than  he  had 
ever  seen  her.  A  thing  which  did  not  aid  his  affec 
tion  for  her,  such  as  it  was,  happened  to  be  that  in 
certain  moods  she  suggested  a  Hindoo  beauty  to 
him  in  a  way  which  brought  back  to  him  memories 
of  the  past  he  did  not  care  to  have  awakened. 

u  Yes  I  do,  yes  I  do,"  he  protested,  getting  hold 
of  her  hand  and  trying  to  make  her  look  at  him. 
"  There  are  things  such  a.woman  as  you  can't  help 
feeling.  It 's  because  you  feel  them  that  you  must 
be  on  your  mettle  —  Lord  knows  you've  got  pluck 
enough  —  and  stand  by  a  fellow  now.  What 
shall  I  do,  my  God,  if  you  don't  ?  " 

He  was,  in  fact,  in  such  straits  that  the  ring 
of  emotion  in  his  voice  was  not  by  any  means 
assumed. 

"  My  God  !  "  he  repeated,  "  what  shall  we  all 
do  if  you  won't  ?  " 


ig8  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

She  lifted  her  eyes  then  to  look  at  him.  She 
was  in  a  sufficiently  nervous  condition  to  be  con 
scious  that  tears  were  always  near. 

u  Are  there  worse  things  than  you  have  told 
me  ?  "  she  faltered. 

"Yes,  worse  things  than  it  would  be  fair  to 
bother  you  with.  I  don't  want  you  to  be  tor 
mented.  I  was  a  deuced  fool  before  I  met  you 
and  began  to  run  straight.  Things  pile  in  now 
that  would  have  lain  quiet  enough  if  Walderhurst 
had  not  married.  Hang  it  all !  he  ought  to  do  the 
decent  thing  by  me.  He  owes  something  to  the 
man  who  may  stand  in  his  shoes,  after  all." 

Hester  lifted  her  slow  eyes  again. 

"You've  not  much  of  a  chance  now,"  she  said. 
tt  She's  a  fine  healthy  woman." 

Osborn  sprang  up  and  paced  the  floor,  set  upon 
by  a  sudden  spasm  of  impotent  rage.  He  snapped 
his  teeth  rather  like  a  dog. 

"  Oh  !  curse  her !  "  he  gave  forth.  "  The  great, 
fresh-coloured  lumping  brute  !  What  did  she  come 
into  it  for?  Of  all  the  devilish  things  that  can 
happen  to  a  man,  the  worst  is  to  be  born  to  the 
thina  I  was  born  to.  To  know  through  your 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  199 

whole  life  that  you  're  just  a  stone's-throw  from 
rank  and  wealth  and  splendour,  and  to  have  to  live 
and  look  on  as  an  outsider.  Upon  mv  word,  I  've 
felt  more  of  an  outsider  just  because  of  it.  There's 
a  cream  I  've  had  every  month  or  so  for  years. 
It 's  a  dream  of  opening  a  letter  that  tells  me  he  's 
dead,  or  of  a  man  coming  into  the  room  or 
meeting  me  in  the  street  and  saying  suddenly, 
'  Walderhurst  died  last  night,  Walderhurst  died 
last  night !  They  're  always  the  same  words, 
4  Walderhurst  died  last  night  ! '  And  I  wake  up 
shaking  and  in  a  cold  sweat  for  joy  at  the  gorgeous 
luck  that 's  come  at  last." 

Hester  gave  a  low  cry  like  a  little  howl,  and 
dropped  her  head  on  her  arms  on  the  table  among 
the  cups  and  saucers. 

"  She  '11  have  a  son  !  She  '11  have  a  son  !  "  she 
cried.  "  And  then  it  won't  matter  whether  ^  dies 
or  not." 

"  Ough  !  "  was  the  sound  wrenched  from  Os- 
born's  fury.  "  And  our  son  might  have  been 
in  it.  Ours  might  have  had  it  all!  Damn  — 
damn  ! 

"  He  won't, —  he  won't  now,   even   if  he  lives 


200  EMILY.   FOX-SETON 

to  be  born,"  she  sobbed,  and  clutched  at  the  dingv 
tablecloth  with  her  lean  little  hands. 

It  was  hard  on  her.  She  had  had  a  thousand 
feverish  dreams  he  had  never  heard  of.  She  had 
lain  awake  hours  at  night  and  stared  with  wide- 
open  eyes  at  the  darkness,  picturing  to  her  inner 
soul  the  dream  of  splendour  that  she  would  be  part 
of,  the  solace  for  past  miseries,  the  high  revenges 
for  past  slights  that  would  be  hers  after  the  hour  in 
which  she  heard  the  words  Osborn  had  just 
quoted,  "  Walderhurst  died  last  night !  "  Oh  !  if 
luck  had  only  helped  them !  if  the  spells  her 
Ayah  had  taught  her  in  secret  had  only  worked  as 
they  would  have  worked  if  she  had  been  a  native 
woman  and  had  really  used  them  properly  !  There 
was  a  spell  she  had  wrought  once  which  Ameerah 
had  sworn  to  her  was  to  be  relied  on.  It  took  ten 
weeks  to  accomplish  its  end.  In  secret  she  had 
known  of  a  man  on  whom  it  had  been  worked. 
She  had  found  out  about  it  partly  from  the  remote 
hints  which  had  aided  her  half  knowledge  of 
strange  things  and  by  keeping  a  close  watch. 
The  man  had  died  —  he  had  died.  She  herself 
and  with  her  own  eyes  had  seen  him  begin  to  ail, 


EMILY    FOX-SETON  201 

had  heard  of  his  fevers  and  pains  and  final  death. 
He  had  died.  She  knew  that.  And  she  had  tried 
the  thing  herself  in  dead  secrecy.  And  at  the  fifth 
week,  -ust  as  with  the  native  who  had  died, 
she  heard  that  Walderhurst  was  ill.  During  the 
nex:  four  weeks  she  was  sick  with  the  tension  of 
combined  horror  and  delight.  But  he  did  not  die 
in  the  tenth  week.  They  heard  that  he  had  gone 
to  Tangiers  with  a  party  of  notable  people,  and  that 
his  "  slight "  indisposition  had  passed,  leaving  him 
in  admirable  health  and  spirits. 

Her  husband  had  known  nothing  of  her  frenzy. 
She  would  not  have  dared  to  tell  him.  There 
were  many  things  she  did  not  tell  him.  He  used  to 
laugh  at  her  native  stories  of  occult  powers,  though 
she  knew  that  he  had  seen  some  strange  things  done, 
as  most  foreigners  had.  He  always  expkined  such 
things  contemptuously  on  grounds  which  presup 
posed  in  the  performers  of  the  mysteries  powers  of 
agilitv,  dexterity,  and  universal  knowledge  quite  as 
marvellous  as  anything  occult  could  have  been. 
He  did  not  like  her  to  show  belief  in  the  "tricks 
of  the  natives,"  as  he  called  them.  It  made  a 
woman  look  a  fool,  he  said,  to  be  so  credulous. 


202  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

During  the  last  few  months  a  new  fever  had 
tormented  her.  Feelings  had  awakened  in  her 
which  were  new.  She  thought  things  she  had 
never  thought  before.  She  had  never  cared  for 
children  or  suspected  herself  of  being  the  maternal 
woman.  But  Nature  worked  in  her  after  her 
weird  fashion.  She  began  to  care  less  for  some 
things  and  more  for  others.  She  cared  less  for 
Osborn's  moods  and  was  better  able  to  defy 
them.  He  began  to  be  afraid  of  her  temper,  and 
she  began  to  like  at  times  to  defy  his.  There  had 
been  some  fierce  scenes  between  them  in  which 
he  had  found  her  meet  with  a  flare  of  fury  words 
she  would  once  have  been  cowed  by.  He  had 
spoken  one  day  with  the  coarse  slightingness  of  a 
selfish,  irritable  brute,  of  the  domestic  event  which 
was  before  them.  He  did  not  speak  twice. 

She  sprang  up  before  him  and  shook  her 
clenched  fist  in  his  face,  so  near  that  he  started 
back. 

"  Don't  say  a  word  !  "  she  cried.  "  Don't  dare 
—  don't  dare.  I  tell  you  —  look  out,  if  you  don't 
want  to  be  killed." 

During    the    outpouring  of   her  frenzy  he   saw 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  203 

her  in  an  entirely  new  light  and  made  discoveries. 
She  would  fight  for  her  young,  as  a  tigress  fights 
for  hers.  She  was  nursing  a  passion  of  secret 
feeling  of  which  he  had  known  nothing.  He  had 
not  for  a  moment  suspected  her  of  it.  She  had 
not  seemed  that  kind  of  girl.  She  had  been  of  the 
kind  that  cares  for  finery  and  social  importance 
and  the  world's  favour,  not  for  sentiments. 

On  this  morning  of  the  letter's  arrival  he 
watched  her  sobbing  and  clutching  the  tablecloth, 
and  reflected.  He  walked  up  and  down  and  pon 
dered.  There  were  a  lot  of  things  to  be  thought 
over. 

"  We  may  as  well  accept  the  invitation  at 
once,"  he  said.  "  Grovel  as  much  as  you  choose. 
The  more  the  better.  They  '11  like  it." 


HE  Osborns  arrived  at  The 
Kennel  Farm  on  a  lovely 
rainy  morning.  The  green 
of  the  fields  and  trees  and 
hedges  was  sweetly  drenched, 
and  the  flowers  held  drops 
which  sparkled  when  the  fit 
ful  sun  broke  forth  and-  searched  for  the  hidden 
light  in  them.  A  Palstrey  carriage  comfortably 
met  them  and  took  them  to  their  destination. 

As  they  turned  into  the  lane,  Osborn  looked  out 
at  the  red  gables  and  chimneys  showing  themselves 
among  the  trees. 

"  It 's  the  old  place  I  looked  at,"  he  said,  "  and 
a  jolly  old  place  it  is." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  205 

Hester  was  drinking  in  the  pure  sweetness  of 
the  fresh  air  and  filling  her  soul  with  the  beauty  of 
such  things  as  she  had  never  seen  before.  In 
London  she  had  grown  hopeless  and  sick  of  spirit. 
The  lodgings  in  Duke  Street,  the  perpetual  morn 
ing  haddock  and  questionable  eggs  and  unpaid  bills, 
had  been  evil  things  for  her.  She  had  reached  a 
point  at  which  she  had  felt  she  could  bear  them  no 
longer.  Here,  at  all  events,  there  would  be  green 
trees  and  clear  air,  and  no  landlady.  With  no 
rent  to  pay,  there  would  be  freedom  from  one  tor 
ment  at  least. 

She  had  not  expected  much  more  than  this  free 
dom,  however.  It  had  seemed  highly  probable 
that  there  might  be  discomforts  in  an  ancient  farm 
house  of  the  kind  likely  to  be  lent  to  impecunious 
relatives. 

But  before  they  crossed  the  threshold  it  was 
plain  to  her  that,  for  some  reason,  they  had  been 
given  more.  The  old  garden  had  been  put  in 
order  —  a  picturesque  and  sweet  disorderly  order, 
which  had  allowed  creepers  to  luxuriate  and  toss, 
and  flowers  to  spring  out  of  crannies,  and  clumps 
of  things  to  mass  themselves  without  restraint. 


ao6  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

The  girl's  wretched  heart  lifted  itself  as  they  drove 
up  to  the  venerable  brick  porch  which  had  some 
what  the  air  of  a  little  church  vestibule.  Through 
the  opened  door  she  saw  a  quaint  comfort  she  had 
not  dreamed  of.  She  had  not  the  knowledge  of 
things  which  would  have  told  her  what  wonders 
Emily  had  done  with  the  place,  but  she  could  see 
that  its  quaint  furnishings  were  oddly  beautiful 
in  their  harmony.  The  heavy  chairs  and  benches 
and  settles  seemed  to  have  been  part  of  centuries  of 
farm-house  life,  and  to  belong  to  the  place  as  much 
as  the  massive  beams  and  doors. 

Hester  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  hall  and  looked 
about  her.  Part  of  it  was  oak  panelled  and  part 
was  whitewashed.  There  were  deep,  low  win 
dows  cut  in  the  thick  walls. 

"  I  never  saw  anything  the  least  like  it,"  she 
said. 

"You  would  n't  expect  to  see  anything  like  it  in 
India,"  her  husband  answered.  "  And  you  won't 
find  many  places  like  it  in  England.  I  should  like 
a  look  at  the  stables." 

He  went  out  almost  immediately  and  took  the 
look  in  question,  finding  the  result  unexpectedly 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  207 

satisfactory.  Walderhurst  had  lent  him  a  decent 
horse  to  ride,  and  there  was  a  respectable  little  cart 
for  Hester.  Palstrey  Manor  had  "  done  them  " 
very  well.  This  was  a  good  deal  more  than  he 
had  expected.  He  knew  such  hospitality  would 
not  have  been  shown  him  if  he  had  come  to  Eng 
land  unmarried.  Consequently  his  good  luck  was 
partly  a  result  of  Hester's  existence  in  his  life.  At 
the  same  time  there  awakened  in  him  a  conscious 
ness  that  Hester  would  not  have  been  likely  to 
produce  such  results  unless  in  combination  with 
another  element  in  the  situation,  —  the  element 
of  another  woman  who  was  sympathetic  and 
had  some  power, — the  new  Lady  Walderhurst, 
in  fact. 

"And  yet,  confound  her — confound  her!" 
he  thought,  as  he  walked  into  the  loose  box  to 
look  the  mare  over  and  pat  her  sleekness. 

The  relations  which  established  themselves  be 
tween  Palstrey  and  The  Kennel  Farm  were  marked 
by  two  characteristic  features.  One  of  these  was 
that  Lord  Walderhurst  did  not  develop  any  warmer 
interest  in  the  Osborns,  and  that  Lady  Walder 
hurst  did.  Having  acceded  to  Emily's  wishes,  and 


208  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

really  behaved  generously  in  the  matter  of  provid 
ing  for  his  heir  presumptive  and  his  wife,  Lord 
Walderhurst  felt  impelled  to  no  further  demonstra 
tion  of  feeling. 

"  I  don't  like  him  any  better  than  I  did,"  he  re 
marked  to  Emily.  "  And  I  cannot  say  that  Mrs. 
Osborn  attracts  me.  Of  course  there  is  a  reason 
why  a  kind-hearted  woman  like  yourself  should  be 
specially  good  to  her  just  now.  Do  anything  you 
wish  for  them  while  they  are  in  the  neighbourhood. 
But  as  for  me,  the  fact  that  a  man  is  one's  heir 
presumptive  is  not  enough  in  itself  alone  to  endear 
him  to  one,  rather  the  contrary." 

Between  these  two  it  is  to  be  confessed  there 
existed  that  rancour  which  is  not  weakened  by  the 
fact  that  it  remains  unexpressed  and  lurks  in  the 
deeps  of  the  inward  being.  Walderhurst  would  not 
have  been  capable  of  explaining  to  himself  that  the 
thing  he  chiefly  disliked  in  this  robust,  warm 
blooded  young  man  was  that  when  he  met  him 
striding  about  with  his  gun  over  his  shoulder  and 
a  keeper  behind  him,  the  almost  unconscious 
realisation  of  the  unpleasant  truth  that  he  was 
striding  over  what  might  prove  to  be  his  own 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  209 

acres,  and  shooting  birds  which  in  the  future  he 
would  himself  possess  the  right  to  preserve,  to 
invite  other  people  to  shoot,  to  keep  less  favoured 
persons  from  shooting,  as  lord  of  the  Manor. 
This  was  a  truth  sufficiently  irritating  to  accentuate 
all  his  faults  of  character  and  breeding. 

Emily,  whose  understanding  of  his  nature  de 
veloped  with  every  day  of  her  life,  grew  into  a 
comprehension  of  this  by  degrees.  Perhaps  her 
greatest  leap  forward  was  taken  on  the  day  when,  as 
he  was  driving  her  in  the  cart  which  had  picked 
her  up  on  the  moor,  they  saw  Osborn  tramping 
through  a  cover  with  his  gun.  He  did  not  see 
them,  and  a  shade  of  irritation  swept  Walderhurst's 
face. 

"  He  seems  to  feel  very  much  at  home,"  he 
commented. 

Then  he  was  silent  for  a  space  during  which  he 
did  not  look  pleased. 

"  If  he  were  my  son,"  he  said,  "  it  would  be 
a  different  matter.  If  Audrey's  child  had  lived — " 

He  stopped  and  gave  the  tall  mare  a  light  cut 
with  his  whip.  He  was  evidently  annoyed  with 
himself  for  having  spoken. 


2io  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

A  hot  wave  of  colour  submerged  Emily.  She 
felt  it  rush  over  her  whole  body.  She  turned  her 
face  away,  hoping  Walderhurst  would  not  observe 
her.  This  was  the  first  time  she  had  heard  him 
utter  his  dead  wife's  name.  She  had  never  heard 
anyone  speak  it.  Audrey  had  evidently  not  been 
a  much-beloved  or  regretted  person.  But  she  had 
had  a  son. 

Her  primitive  soul  had  scarcely  dared  to  ap 
proach,  even  with  awe,  the  thought  of  such  a 
possibility  for  herself.  As  in  the  past  she  had  not 
had  the  temerity  to  dream  of  herself  as  a  woman 
who  possessed  attractions  likely  to  lead  to  marriage, 
so  she  was  mentally  restrained  in  these  days. 
There  was  something  spinster-like  in  the  tenor  of 
her  thoughts.  But  she  would  have  laid  down  her 
life  for  this  dull  man's  happiness.  And  of  late 
she  had  more  than  once  blamed  herself  for  accept 
ing  so  much,  unthinkingly. 

"  I  did  not  realise  things  properly,"  she  had 
said  to  herself  in  humble  pain.  "  I  ought  to  have 
been  a  girl,  young  and  strong  and  beautiful.  His 
sacrifice  was  too  great,  it  was  immense." 

It  had  been  nothing  of  the  sort.     He  had  pleased 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  211 

himself  and  done  what  was  likely  to  tend,  and  had 
tended,  altogether  to  his  own  ease  and  comfort. 
In  any  case  Emily  Fox-Seton  was  a  fine  creature, 
and  only  thirty-four,  and  with  Alec  Osborn  at  the 
other  side  of  the  globe  the  question  of  leaving  an 
heir  had  been  less  present  and  consequently  had 
dwindled  in  importance. 

The  nearness  of  the  Osborns  fretted  him  just 
now.  If  their  child  was  a  son,  he  would  be  more 
fretted  still.  He  was  rather  glad  of  a  possibility, 
just  looming,  of  his  being  called  away  from  Eng 
land  through  affairs  of  importance. 

He  had  spoken  to  Emily  of  this  possibility,  and 
she  had  understood  that,  as  his  movements  and  the 
length  of  his  stay  would  be  uncertain,  she  would 
not  accompany  him. 

"  There  is  one  drawback  to  our  marriage,"  he 
said. 

"Is  it — is  it  anything  I  can  remove?"  Emily 
asked. 

"  No,  though  you  are  responsible  for  it.  Peo 
ple  seldom  can  remove  the  drawbacks  they  are 
responsible  for.  You  have  taught  me  to  miss 
you." 


212  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"Have  I  — have  I?"  cried  Emily.  "  Oh  \  l 
am  happy  !  " 

She  was  so  happy  that  she  felt  that  she  must 
pass  on  some  of  her  good  fortune  to  those  who 
had  less.  She  was  beautifully  kind  to  Hester 
Osborn.  Few  days  passed  without  the  stopping 
of  a  Walderhurst  carriage  before  the  door  of  The 
Kennel  Farm.  Sometimes  Emily  came  herself  to 
take  Mrs.  Osborn  to  drive,  sometimes  she  sent  for 
her  to  come  to  lunch  and  spend  the  day  or  night 
at  Palstrey.  She  felt  an  interest  in  the  young 
woman  which  became  an  affection.  She  would 
have  felt  interested  in  her  if  there  had  not  existed 
a  special  reason  to  call  forth  sympathy.  Hester 
had  many  curious  and  new  subjects  for  conversa 
tion.  Emily  liked  her  descriptions  of  Indian  life 
and  her  weird  little  stories  of  the  natives.  She 
was  charmed  with  Ameerah,  whose  nose  rings  and 
native  dress,  combining  themselves  with  her  dark 
mystic  face,  rare  speech,  and  gliding,  silent  move 
ments,  awakened  awe  in  the  rustics  and  mingled 
distrust  and  respect  in  the  servants'  hall  at  Palstrey. 

"  She 's  most  respectably  behaved,  my  lady, 
though  foreign  and  strange  in  her  manners,"  was 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  213 

Jane  Cupp's  comment.  "  But  she  has  a  way  of 
looking  at  a  person  —  almost  stealthy  —  that  's 
upset  me  many  a  time  when  I  Ve  noticed  it 
suddenly.  They  say  that  she  knows  things,  like 
fortune-telling  and  spells  and  love  potions.  But 
she  will  only  speak  of  them  quite  secret." 

Emily  gathered  that  Jane  Cupp  was  afraid  of 
the  woman,  and  kept  a  cautious  eye  upon  her. 

"  She  is  a  very  faithful  servant,  Jane,"  she  an 
swered.  "  She  is  devoted  to  Mrs.  Osborn." 

"  I  am  sure  she  is,  my  lady.  I've  read  in  books 
about  the  faithfulness  of  black  people.  They  say 
they  're  more  faithful  than  white  ones." 

"  Not  more  faithful  than  some  white  ones,"  said 
Lady  Walderhurst  with  her  good  smile.  "  Amee- 
rah  is  not  more  faithful  than  you,  I  'm  very  sure." 

"  Oh,  my  lady  ! "  ejaculated  Jane,  turning  red 
with  pleasure.  "  I  do  hope  not.  I  shouldn't  like 
to  think  she  could  be." 

In  fact  the  tropic  suggestion  of  the  Ayah's  per 
sonality  had  warmed  the  imagination  of  the  ser 
vants'  hall,  and  there  had  been  much  talk  of  many 
things,  of  the  Osborns  as  well  as  of  their  servants, 
and  thrilling  stories  of  East  Indian  life  had  been 


214  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

related  by  Walderhurst's  man,  who  was  a  travelled 

person. 

Captain  Osborn  had  good  sport  on  these  days, 
and  sport  was  the  thing  he  best  loved.  He  was  of 
the  breed  of  man  who  can  fish,  hunt,  or  shoot  all 
day,  eat  robust  meals  and  sleep  heavily  all  night; 
who  can  do  this  every  day  of  a  year,  and  in  so  doing 
reach  his  highest  point  of  desire  in  existence.  He 
knew  no  other  aspirations  in  life  than  such  as  the 
fortunes  of  a  man  like  Walderhurst  could  put  him 
in  possession  of.  Nature  herself  had  built  him 
after  the  model  of  the  primeval  type  of  English 
country  land-owner.  India  with  her  blasting  and 
stifling  hot  seasons  and  her  steaming  rains  gave  him 
nothing  that  he  desired,  and  filled  him  with  revolt 
against  Fate  every  hour  of  his  life.  His  sanguine 
body  loathed  and  grew  restive  under  heat.  At  The 
Kennel  Farm,  when  he  sprang  out  of  his  bed  in 
the  fresh  sweetness  of  the  morning  and  plunged 
into  his  tub,  he  drew  every  breath  with  a  physical 
rapture.  The  air  which  swept  in  through  the 
diamond-paned,  ivy-hung  casements  was  a  joy. 

"  Good  Lord  !  "  he  would  cry  out  to  Hester 
through  her  half-opened  door,  "  what  mornings  ! 


Captain    Alee    On  born 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  215 

how  a  man  lives  and  feels  the  blood  rushing 
through  his  veins !  Rain  or  shine,  it 's  all  the 
same  to  me.  I  can't  stay  indoors.  Just  to  tramp 
through  wet  or  dry  heather,  or  under  dripping  or 
shining  trees,  is  enough.  How  can  one  believe  one 
has  ever  lain  sweating  with  one's  tongue  lolling 
out,  and  listened  to  the  whining  creak  of  the 
punkah  through  nights  too  deadly  hot  to  sleep  in  ! 
It 's  like  remembering  hell  while  one  lives  in 
Paradise." 

"  We  shan't  live  in  Paradise  long,"  Hester 
said  once  with  some  bitterness.  "  Hell  is  waiting 
for  us." 

"  Damn  it  !  don't  remind  a  man.  There  are 
times  when  I  don't  believe  it."  He  almost  snarled 
the  answer.  It  was  true  that  his  habit  was  to  en 
hance  the  pleasure  of  his  days  by  thrusting  into 
the  background  all  recollections  of  the  reality  of 
any  other  existence  than  that  of  the  hour.  As  he 
tramped  through  fern  and  heather  he  would  re 
member  nothing  but  that  there  was  a  chance  — 
there  was  chance,  good  Lord  !  After  a  man 
not  over  strong  reached  fifty-four  or  five,  there 
were  more  chances  than  there  had  been  earlier. 


216  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

After  hours  spent  in  such  moods,  it  was  not  pleas 
ant  to  come  by  accident  upon  Walderhurst  riding 
his  fine  chestnut,  erect  and  staid,  and  be  saluted  by 
the  grave  raising  of  his  whip  to  his  hat.  Or  to 
return  to  the  Farm  just  as  the  Palstrey  barouche 
turned  in  at  the  gate  with  Lady  Walderhurst  sitting 
in  it  glowing  with  health  and  that  enjoyable  inter 
est  in  all  things  which  gave  her  a  kind  of  radiance 
of  eye  and  colour. 

She  came  at  length  in  a  time  when  she  did  not 
look  quite  so  radiant.  This,  it  appeared,  was  from 
a  reason  which  might  be  regarded  as  natural  under 
the  circumstances.  A  more  ardent  man  than  Lord 
Walderhurst  might  have  felt  that  he  could  not  un 
dertake  a  journey  to  foreign  lands  which  would 
separate  him  from  a  wife  comparatively  new.  But 
Lord  Walderhurst  was  not  ardent,  and  he  had 
married  a  woman  who  felt  that  he  did  all  things 
well  —  that,  in  fact,  a  thing  must  be  well  because 
it  was  his  choice  to  do  it.  His  journey  to  India 
might,  it  was  true,  be  a  matter  of  a  few  months, 
and  involved  diplomatic  business  for  which  a  cer 
tain  unimpeachable  respectability  was  required.  A 
more  brilliant  man,  who  had  been  less  respectable 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  217 

in  the  most  decorous  British  sense,  would  not  have 
served  the  purpose  of  the  government. 

Emily's  skin  had  lost  a  shade  of  its  healthful 
freshness,  it  struck  Hester,  when  she  saw  her. 
There  was  a  suggestion  of  fulness  under  her  eyes. 
Yet  with  the  bright  patience  of  her  smile  she 
defied  the  remote  suspicion  that  she  had  shed  a 
tear  or  so  before  leaving  home.  She  explained  the 
situation  with  an  affectionally  reverent  dwelling 
upon  the  dignity  of  the  mission  which  would 
temporarily  bereave  her  of  her  mate.  Her  belief 
in  Walderhurst's  intellectual  importance  to  the 
welfare  of  the  government  was  a  complete  and 
touching  thing. 

"  It  will  not  be  for  very  long,"  she  said,  "  and 
you  and  I  must  see  a  great  deal  of  each  other.  I 
am  so  glad  you  are  here.  You  know  how  one 
misses  — "  breaking  off  with  an  admirable  air  of 
determined  cheer — "I  must  not  think  of  that." 

Walderhurst  congratulated  himself  seriously 
during  the  days  before  his  departure.  She  was  so 
exactly  what  he  liked  a  woman  to  be.  She  might 
have  made  difficulties,  or  have  been  sentimental. 
If  she  had  been  a  girl,  it  would  have  been  neces- 


218  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

sary  to  set  up  a  sort  of  nursery  for  her,  but  this 
fine  amenable,  sensible  creature  could  take  perfect 
care  of  herself.  It  was  only  necessary  to  express 
a  wish,  and  she  not  only  knew  how  to  carry  it  out, 
but  was  ready  to  do  so  without  question.  As  far 
as  he  was  concerned,  he  was  willing  to  leave  all  to 
her  own  taste.  It  was  such  decent  taste.  She 
had  no  modern  ideas  which  might  lead  during  his 
absence  to  any  action  likely  to  disturb  or  annoy 
him.  What  she  would  like  best  to  do  would  be 
to  stay  at  Palstrey  and  enjoy  the  beauty  of  it.  She 
would  spend  her  days  in  strolling  through  the 
gardens,  talking  to  the  gardeners,  who  had  all 
grown  fond  of  her,  or  paying  little  visits  to  old 
people  or  young  ones  in  the  village.  She  would 
help  the  vicar's  wife  in  her  charities,  she  would 
appear  in  the  Manor  pew  at  church  regularly, 
make  the  necessary  dull  calls,  and  go  to  the  un 
avoidable  dull  dinners  with  a  faultless  amiability 
and  decorum. 

"  As  I  remarked  when  you  told  me  you  had 
asked  her  to  marry  you,"  said  Lady  Maria  on  the 
occasion  of  his  lunching  with  heron  running  up 
to  town  for  a  day's  business,  "  you  showed  a 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  219 

great  deal  more  sense  than  most  men  of  your  age 
and  rank.  If  people  will  marry,  they  should 
choose  the  persons  least  likely  to  interfere  with 
them.  Emily  will  never  interfere  with  you.  She 
cares  a  great  deal  more  about  your  pleasure  than 
her  own.  And  as  to  that,  she 's  so  much  like  a  big, 
healthy,  good  child  that  she  would  find  pleasure 
wheresoever  you  dropped  her." 

This  was  true,  yet  the  healthy,  childish  creature 
had,  in  deep  privacy,  cried  a  little,  and  was  patheti 
cally  glad  to  feel  that  the  Osborns  were  to  be  near 
her,  and  that  she  would  have  Hester  to  think  of 
and  take  care  of  during  the  summer. 

It  was  pathetic  that  she  should  cherish  an  affec 
tion  so  ingenuous  for  the  Osborns,  for  one  of  them 
at  least  had  no  patience  with  her.  To  Captain 
Osborn  her  existence  and  presence  in  the  near 
neighbourhood  were  offences.  He  told  himself  that 
she  was  of  the  particular  type  of  woman  he  most 
disliked.  She  was  a  big,  blundering  fool,  he  said, 
and  her  size  and  very  good  nature  itself  got  on  his 
nerves  and  irritated  him. 

"  She  looks  so  deucedly  prosperous  with  her  first- 
rate  clothes  and  her  bouncing  health,"  he  said. 


220  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  The  tread  of  her  big  feet  makes  me  mad  when  I 
hear  it." 

Hester  answered  with  a  shrill  little  laugh. 

"  Her  big  feet  are  a  better  shape  than  mine," 
she  said.  "  I  ought  to  hate  her,  and  I  would  if  I 
could,  but  I  can't." 

"  I  can,"  muttered  Osborn  between  his  teeth 
as  he  turned  to  the  mantel  and  scratched  a  match 
to  light  his  pipe. 


HEN  Lord  Walderhurst  took 
his  departure  for  India,  his 
**)  C\  M\  w'^e  began  to  order  her  daily 
\(\y/  |2  |[  existence  as  he  had  imagined 
u.*<lia  sne  Would.  Before  he  had  left 
her  she  had  appeared  at  the 
first  Drawing-room,  and  had  spent  a  few  weeks  at 
the  town  house,  where  they  had  given  several  im 
posing  and  serious  dinner  parties,  more  remarkable 
for  dignity  and  good  taste  than  liveliness.  The 
duties  of  social  existence  in  town  would  have  been 
unbearable  for  Emily  without  her  husband.  Dressed 
by  Jane  Cupp  with  a  passion  of  fervour,  fine  folds 
sweeping  from  her  small,  long  waist,  diamonds 
strung  round  her  neck,  and  a  tiara  or  a  big  star  in 
her  full  brown  hair,  Emily  was  rather  superb 


222  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

when  supported  by  the  consciousness  that  Walder- 
hurst's  well-carried  maturity  and  long  accustomed- 
ness  were  near  her.  With  him  she  could  enjoy 
even  the  unlively  splendour  of  a  function,  but 
without  him  she  would  have  been  very  unhappy. 
At  Palstrey  she  was  ceasing  to  feel  new,  and  had 
begun  to  realise  that  she  belonged  to  the  world 
she  lived  in.  She  was  becoming  accustomed  to 
her  surroundings,  and  enjoyed  them  to  the  utmost. 
Her  easily  roused  affections  were  warmed  by  the 
patriarchal  atmosphere  of  village  life.  Most  of 
the  Palstrey  villagers  had  touched  their  forelocks 
or  curtsied  to  Walderhursts  for  generations. 
Emily  liked  to  remember  this,  and  had  at  once 
conceived  a  fondness  for  the  simple  folk,  who 
seemed  somehow  related  so  closely  to  the  man  she 
worshipped. 

Walderhurst  had  not  the  faintest  conception  of 
what  this  worship  represented.  He  did  not  even 
reach  the  length  of  realising  its  existence.  He 
saw  her  ingenuous  reverence  for  and  belief  in  him, 
and  was  naturally  rather  pleased  by  them.  He 
was  also  vaguely  aware  that  if  she  had  been  a 
more  brilliant  woman  she  would  have  been  a  more 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  223 

exacting  one,  and  less  easily  impressed.  If  she 
had  been  a  stupid  woman  or  a  clumsy  one,  he 
would  have  detested  her  and  bitterly  regretted  his 
marriage.  But  she  was  only  innocent  and  grate 
fully  admiring,  which  qualities,  combining  them 
selves  with  good  looks,  good  health,  and  good 
manners,  made  of  a  woman  something  he  liked 
immensely.  Really  she  had  looked  very  nice  and 
attractive  when  she  had  bidden  him  good-by,  with 
her  emotional  flush  and  softness  of  expression  and 
the  dewy  brightness  of  her  eyes.  There  was  some 
thing  actually  moving  in  the  way  her  strong  hand 
had  wrung  his  at  the  last  moment. 

"  I  only  wish"  she  had  said,  "  I  only  do  so 
wish  that  there  was  something  I  could  do  for  you 
while  you  are  away  —  something  you  could  leave 
me  to  do" 

"  Keep  well  and  enjoy  yourself,"  he  had  an 
swered.  "That  will  really  please  me." 

Nature  had  not  so  built  him  that  he  could  sus 
pect  that  she  went  home  and  spent  the  rest  of  the 
morning  in  his  rooms,  putting  away  his  belongings 
with  her  own  hands,  just  for  the  mere  passion  of 
comfort  she  felt  in  touching  the  things  he  had 


224  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

worn,  the  books  he  had  handled,  the  cushions  his 
head  had  rested  against.  She  had  indeed  men 
tioned  to  the  housekeeper  at  Berkeley  Square  that 
she  wished  his  lordship's  apartments  to  remain  un 
touched  until  she  herself  had  looked  over  them. 
The  obsession  which  is  called  Love  is  an  emotion 
past  all  explanation.  The  persons  susceptible  to 
its  power  are  as  things  beneath  a  spell.  They  see, 
hear,  and  feel  that  of  which  the  rest  of  their  world 
is  unaware,  and  will  remain  unaware  for  ever.  To 
the  endearing  and  passion-inspiring  qualities  Emily 
Walderhurst  saw  in  this  more  than  middle-aged 
gentleman  an  unstirred  world  would  remain  blind, 
deaf,  and  imperceptive  until  its  end  transpired. 
This,  however,  made  not  the  slightest  difference  in 
the  reality  of  these  things  as  she  saw  and  felt  and 
was  moved  to  her  soul's  centre  by  them.  Bright 
youth  in  Agatha  Norman,  at  present  joyously  gird 
ling  the  globe  with  her  bridegroom,  was  moved 
much  less  deeply,  despite  its  laughter  and  love. 

A  large  lump  swelled  in  Emily's  throat  as  she 
walked  about  the  comfortable,  deserted  apartments 
of  her  James.  Large  tears  dropped  on  the  breast 
of  her  dress  as  they  had  dropped  upon  her  linen 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  225 

blouse  when  she  walked  across  the  moor  to  Maun- 
dell.  But  she  bravely  smiled  as  she  tenderly 
brushed  away  with  her  hand  two  drops  which  fell 
upon  a  tweed  waistcoat  she  had  picked  up.  Hav 
ing  done  this,  she  suddenly  stooped  and  kissed  the 
rough  cloth  fervently,  burying  her  face  in  it  with 
a  sob. 

"I  do  love  him  so ! "  she  whispered,  hysterically. 
"  I  do  so  love  him,  and  I  shall  so  miss  him  !  "  with 
the  italicised  feelingness  of  old. 

The  outburst  was  in  fact  so  strongly  italicised  that 
she  felt  the  next  moment  almost  as  if  she  had  been 
a  little  indecent.  She  had  never  been  called  upon 
by  the  strenuousness  of  any  occasion  to  mention 
baldly  to  Lord  Walderhurst  that  she  "  loved " 
him.  It  had  not  been  necessary,  and  she  was  too 
little  used  to  it  not  to  be  abashed  by  finding  her 
self  proclaiming  the  fact  to  his  very  waistcoat 
itself.  She  sat  down  holding  the  garment  in  her 
hands  and  let  her  tears  fall. 

She  looked  about  her  at  the  room  and  across 
the  corridor  through  the  open  door  at  his  study 
which  adjoined  it.  They  were  fine  rooms,  and 
every  book  and  bust  and  chair  looked  singularly 


226  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

suggestive  of  his   personality.     The  whole  house 

was  beautiful  and  imposing  in  Emily's  eyes. 

"  He  has  made  all  my  life  beautiful  and  full  of 
comfort  and  happiness,"  she  said,  trembling.  "  He 
has  saved  me  from  everything  I  was  afraid  of, 
and  there  is  nothing  I  can  do.  Oh  !  "  suddenly 
dropping  a  hot  face  on  her  hands,  "  if  I  were  only 
Hester  Osborn.  I  should  be  glad  to  suffer  any 
thing,  or  die  in  any  way.  I  should  have  paid 
him  back  —  just  a  little  —  if  I  might." 

For  there  was  one  thing  she  had  learned  through 
her  yearning  fervour,  not  through  any  speech  of 
his.  All  the  desire  and  pride  in  him  would  be  fed 
full  and  satisfied  if  he  could  pass  his  name  on  to  a 
creature  of  his  own  flesh  and  blood.  All  the  heat 
his  cold  nature  held  had  concentrated  itself  in  a 
secret  passion  centred  on  this  thing.  She  had 
begun  to  awaken  to  a  suspicion  of  this  early  in 
their  marriage,  and  afterwards  by  processes  of 
inclusion  and  exclusion  she  had  realised  the  proud 
intensity  of  his  feeling  despite  his  reserve  and 
silence.  As  for  her,  she  would  have  gone  to  the 
stake,  or  have  allowed  her  flesh  to  be  cut  into 
pieces  to  form  that  which  would  have  given  him 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  227 

reason   for   exultation   and    pride.      Such  was    the 
helpless,  tragic,  kindly  love  and  yearning  of  her. 

The  thing  filled  her  with  a  passion  of  tender 
ness  for  Hester  Osborn.  She  yearned  over  her, 
too.  Her  spinster  life  had  never  brought  her  near 
to  the  mystery  of  birth.  She  was  very  ignorant  and 
deeply  awed  by  the  mere  thought  of  it.  At  the 
outset  Hester  had  been  coldly  shy  and  reticent, 
but  as  they  saw  each  other  more  she  began  to 
melt  before  the  unselfish  warmth  of  the  other 
woman's  overtures  of  friendship.  She  was  very 
lonely  and  totally  inexperienced.  As  Agatha  Slade 
had  gradually  fallen  into  intimacy  of  speech,  so  did 
she.  She  longed  so  desperately  for  companionship 
that  the  very  intensity  of  her  feelings  impelled  her 
to  greater  openness  than  she  had  at  first  intended. 

u  I  suppose  men  don't  know,"  she  said  to  her 
self  sullenly,  in  thinking  of  Osborn,  who  spent  his 
days  out  of  doors.  "At  any  rate,  they  don't  care." 

Emily  cared  greatly,  and  was  so  full  of  interest 
and  sympathy  that  there  was  something  like  physi 
cal  relief  in  talking  to  her. 

"  You  two  have  become  great  pals,"  Alec  said, 


228  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

on  an  afternoon  when  he  stood  at  a  window 
watching  Lady  Walderhurst's  carriage  drive  away. 
"You  spend  hours  together  talking.  What  is  it 
all  about?" 

"  She  talks  a  good  deal  about  her  husband.  It  is  a 
comfort  to  her  to  find  someone  to  listen.  She  thinks 
he  is  a  god.  But  we  principally  talk  about —  me." 

"  Don't  discourage  her,"  laughed  Osborn.  "  Per 
haps  she  will  get  so  fond  of  you  that  she  will  not 
be  willing  to  part  with  us,  as  she  will  be  obliged 
to  take  both  to  keep  one." 

"  I  wish  she  would,  I  wish  she  would  !  " 
sighed  Hester,  tossing  up  her  hands  in  a  languid, 
yet  fretted  gesture. 

The  contrast  between  herself  and  this  woman 
was  very  often  too  great  to  be  equably  borne. 
Even  her  kindness  could  not  palliate  it.  The 
simple  perfection  of  her  country  clothes,  the  shin 
ing  skins  of  her  horses,  the  smooth  roll  of  her 
carriage,  the  automatic  servants  who  attended  her, 
were  suggestive  of  that  ease  and  completeness  in 
all  things,  only  to  be  compassed  by  long-possessed 
wealth.  To  see  every  day  the  evidences  of  it 
while  one  lived  on  charitable  sufferance  on  the 


EMILY  EDX-SETON  229 

crumbs  which  fell  from  the  master's  table  was  a 
galling  enough  thing,  after  all.  It  would  always 
have  been  galling.  But  it  mattered  so  much  more 
now  —  so  much  more  to  Hester  than  she  had  known 
it  could  matter  even  in  those  days  when  as  a  girl 
she  had  thirstily  longed  for  it.  In  those  days  she 
had  not  lived  near  enough  to  it  all  to  know  the  full 
meaning  and  value  of  it  —  the  beauty  and  luxury, 
the  stateliness  and  good  taste.  To  have  known  it 
in  this  way,  to  have  been  almost  part  of  it  and 
then  to  leave  it,  to  go  back  to  a  hugger-mugger 
existence  in  a  wretched  bungalow  hounded  by  debt, 
pinched  and  bound  hard  and  fast  by  poverty,  which 
offered  no  future  prospect  of  bettering  itself  into 
decent  good  luck  !  Who  could  bear  it  ? 

Both  were  thinking  the  same  thing  as  their  eyes 
met. 

"  How  are  we  to  stand  it,  after  this  ?  "  she  cried 
out  sharply. 

"  We  can't  stand  it,"  he  answered.     "Confound 
it  all,  something  must  happen." 

"  Nothing  will,"  she  said ;  "  nothing  but  that  we 
shall  go  back  worse  off  than  before." 


230  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

At  this  period  Lady  Walderhurst  went  to  Lon 
don  again  to  shop,  and  spent  two  entire  happy  days 
in  buying  beautiful  things  of  various  kinds,  which 
were  all  to  be  sent  to  Mrs.  Osborn  at  The  Kennel 
Farm,  Palstrey.  She  had  never  enjoyed  herself  so 
much  in  her  life  as  she  did  during  those  two  days 
when  she  sat  for  hours  at  one  counter  after  another 
looking  at  exquisite  linen  and  flannel  and  lace. 
The  days  she  had  spent  with  Lady  Maria  in  pur 
chasing  her  trousseau  had  not  compared  with  these 
two.  She  looked  actually  lovely  as  she  almost 
fondled  the  fine  fabrics,  smiling  with  warm  softness 
at  the  pretty  things  shown  her.  She  spent,  in  fact, 
a  good  deal  of  money,  and  luxuriated  in  so  doing  as 
she  could  never  have  luxuriated  in  spending  it  in 
finery  for  herself.  Nothing  indeed  seemed  too 
fairy-like  in  its  fineness,  no  quantity  of  lace  seemed 
in  excess.  Her  heart  positively  trembled  in  her 
breast  sometimes,  and  she  found  strange  tears  rising 
in  her  eyes. 

"  They  are  so  sweet,"  she  said  plaintively  to  the 
silence  of  her  own  bedroom  as  she  looked  some  of 
her  purchases  over.  "  I  don't  know  why  they 
give  me  such  a  feeling.  They  look  so  little  and 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  231 

—  helpless,  and  as  if  they  were  made  to  hold  in 
one's  arms.  It 's  absurd  of  me,  I  daresay." 

The  morning  the  boxes  arrived  at  The  Kennel 
Farm,  Emily  came  too.  She  was  in  the  big  car 
riage,  and  carried  with  her  some  special  final  pur 
chases  she  wanted  to  bring  herself.  She  came 
because  she  could  not  have  kept  away.  She  wanted 
to  see  the  things  again,  to  be  with  Hester  when 
she  unpacked  them,  to  help  her,  to  look  them  all 
over,  to  touch  them  and  hold  them  in  her  hands. 

She  found  Hester  in  the  large,  low-ceilinged 
room  in  which  she  slept.  The  big  four-post  bed 
was  already  snowed  over  with  a  heaped-up  drift  of 
whiteness,  and  open  boxes  were  scattered  about. 
There  was  an  odd  expression  in  the  girl's  eyes,  and 
she  had  a  red  spot  on  either  cheek. 

"  I  did  not  expect  anything  like  this,"  she  said. 
"  I  thought  I  should  have  to  make  some  plain,  little 
things  myself,  suited  to  its  station,"  with  a  wry 
smile.  "  They  would  have  been  very  ugly.  I 
don't  know  how  to  sew  in  the  least.  You  forget 
that  you  were  not  buying  things  for  a  prince  or  a 
princess,  but  for  a  little  beggar." 

"  Oh,  don't  ! "    cried   Emily,    taking    both  her 


232  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

hands.  "  Let  us  be  happy  !  It  was  so  nice  to  buy 
them.  I  never  liked  anything  so  much  in  my 
life." 

She  went  and  stood  by  the  bedside,  taking  up 
the  things  one  by  one,  touching  up  frills  of  lace 
and  smoothing  out  tucks. 

"  Does  n't  it  make  you  happy  to  look  at  them  ?  " 
she  said. 

"  You  look  at  them,"  said  Hester,  staring  at  her, 
"  as  if  the  sight  of  them  made  you  hungry,  or  as 
if  you  had  bought  them  for  yourself." 

Emily  turned  slightly  away.  She  said  nothing. 
For  a  few  moments  there  was  a  dead  silence. 

Hester  spoke  again.  What  in  the  world  was  it 
in  the  mere  look  of  the  tall,  straight  body  of  the 
woman  to  make  her  feel  hot  and  angered. 

"If  you  had  bought  them  for  yourself,"  she  per 
sisted,  "  they  would  be  worn  by  a  Marquis  of 
Walderhurst." 

Emily  laid  down  the  robe  she  had  been  holding. 
She  put  it  on  the  bed,  and  turned  round  to  look  at 
Hester  Osborn  with  serious  eyes. 

"  They  may  be  worn  by  a  Marquis  of  Walder 
hurst,  you  know,"  she  answered.  "  They  may." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  233 

She  was  remotely  hurt  and  startled,  because  she 
felt  in  the  young  woman  something  she  had  felt 
once  or  twice  before,  something  resentful  in  her 
thoughts  of  herself,  as  if  for  the  moment  she  repre 
sented  to  her  an  enemy. 

The  next  moment,  however,  Hester  Osborn  fell 
upon  her  with  embraces. 

"  You  are  an  angel  to  me,"  she  cried.  "  You 
are  an  angel,  and  I  can't  thank  you.  I  don't 
know  how." 

Emily  Walderhurst  patted  her  shoulder  as  she 
kindly  enfolded  her  in  warm  arms. 

"  Don't  thank  me,"  she  half  whispered  emo 
tionally.  "  Don't.  Just  let  us  enjoy  ourselves." 


Chapter 
J/iirteen 


)LEC  OSBORN  rode  a  good 
deal  in  these  days.  He  also 
7\  Jft$  walked  a  good  deal,  some- 
*T"J  <f(  times  with  a  gun  over  his 
shoulder  and  followed  by  a 
keeper,  sometimes  alone. 
There  was  scarcely  a  square 
yard  of  the  Palstrey  Manor  lands  he  had  not 
tramped  over.  He  had  learned  the  whole  estate 
by  heart,  its  woods,  its  farms,  its  moorlands. 
A  morbid  secret  interest  in  its  beauties  and  re 
sources  possessed  him.  He  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  to  ask  apparently  casual  questions 
of  keepers  and  farmers  when  he  found  himself 
with  them.  He  managed  to  give  his  inquiries 
as  much  the  air  of  accident  as  possible,  but  he 
himself  knew  that  they  were  made  as  a  result 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  235 

of  a  certain  fevered  curiosity.  He  found  that  he 
had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  continually  making  plans 
connected  with  the  place.  He  said  to  himself,  "  If 
it  were  mine  I  would  do  this,  or  that.  If  I 
owned  it,  I  would  make  this  change  or  that  one. 
I  would  discharge  this  keeper  or  put  another  man 
on  such  a  farm."  He  tramped  among  the  heather 
thinking  these  things  over,  and  realising  to  the  full 
what  the  pleasure  of  such  powers  would  mean  to 
a  man  such  as  himself,  a  man  whose  vanity  had 
never  been  fed,  who  had  a  desire  to  control  and  a 
longing  for  active  out-of-door  life. 

"  If  it  were  mine,  if  it  were  mine  !  "  he  would 
say  to  himself.  "  Oh  !  damn  it  all,  if  it  were  only 
mine  !  " 

And  there  were  other  places  as  fine,  and  finer 
places  he  had  never  seen,  —  Oswyth,  Hurst,  and 
Towers,  — all  Walderhurst's  all  belonging  to  this 
one  respectable,  elderly  muff".  Thus  he  summed 
up  the  character  of  his  relative.  As  for  himself  he 
was  young,  strong,  and  with  veins  swelling  with  the 
insistent  longing  for  joyful,  exultant  life.  The 
sweating,  panting  drudgery  of  existence  in  India 
was  a  thought  of  hell  to  him.  But  there  it  was, 


236  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

looming  up  nearer  and  nearer  with  every  heav 
enly  English  day  that  passed.  There  was  nothing 
for  it  but  to  go  back  — go  back,  thrust  one's  neck 
into  the  collar  again,  and  sweat  and  be  galled  to  the 
end.  He  had  no  ambitions  connected  with  his 
profession.  He  realised  loathingly  in  these  days 
that  he  had  always  been  waiting,  waiting. 

The  big,  bright-faced  woman  who  was  always 
hanging  about  Hester,  doing  her  favours,  he  ac 
tually  began  to  watch  feverishly.  She  was  such  a 
fool ;  she  always  looked  so  healthy,  and  she  was 
specially  such  a  fool  over  Walderhurst.  When  she 
had  news  of  him,  it  was  to  be  seen  shining  in  her 
face. 

She  had  a  sentimental  school-girl  fancy  that 
during  his  absence  she  would  apply  herself  to  the 
task  of  learning  to  ride.  She  had  been  intending 
to  do  so  before  he  went  away ;  they  had  indeed 
spoken  of  it  together,  and  Walderhurst  had  given 
her  a  handsome,  gentle  young  mare.  The  creature 
was  as  kind  as  she  was  beautiful.  Osborn,  who 
was  celebrated  for  his  horsemanship,  had  promised 
to  undertake  to  give  the  lessons. 

A  few  days  after  her  return  from  London  with 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  237 

her  purchases,  she  asked  the  husband  and  wife  to 
lunch  with  her  at  Palstrey,  and  during  the  meal 
broached  the  subject. 

"I  should  like  to  begin  soon,  if  you  can  spare 
the  time  for  me,"  she  said.  "  I  want  to  be  able 
to  go  out  with  him  when  he  comes  back.  Do  you 
think  I  shall  be  slow  in  learning?  Perhaps  I  ought 
to  be  lighter  to  ride  well." 

"  I  think  you  will  be  pretty  sure  to  have  a 
first-class  seat,"  Osborn  answered.  u  You  will  be 
likely  to  look  particularly  well." 

"  Do  you  think  I  shall  ?  How  good  you  are  to 
encourage  me.  How  soon  could  I  begin  ?  " 

She  was  quite  agreeably  excited.  In  fact,  she 
was  delighted  by  innocent  visions  of  herself  as 
Walderhurst's  equestrian  companion.  Perhaps  if 
she  sat  well,  and  learned  fine  control  of  her  horse, 
he  might  be  pleased,  and  turn  to  look  at  her,  as 
they  rode  side  by  side,  with  that  look  of  approval 
and  dawning  warmth  which  brought  such  secret 
joy  to  her  soul. 

"When  may  I  take  my  first  lesson?"  she  said 
quite  eagerly  to  Captain  Osborn,  for  whom  a  foot 
man  was  pouring  out  a  glass  of  wine. 


238  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  As  soon,"  he  answered,  "  as  I  have  taken  out 
the  mare  two  or  three  times  myself.  I  want  to 
know  her  thoroughly.  I  would  not  let  you  mount 
her  until  I  had  learned  her  by  heart." 

They  went  out  to  the  stables  after  lunch  and 
visited  the  mare  in  her  loose  box.  She  was  a  fine 
beast,  and  seemed  as  gentle  as  a  child. 

Captain  Osborn  asked  questions  of  the  head 
groom  concerning  her.  She  had  a  perfect  reputa 
tion,  but  nevertheless  she  was  to  be  taken  over  to 
the  Kennel  stables  a  few  days  before  Lady  Wal- 
derhurst  mounted  her. 

"It  is  necessary  to  be  more  than  careful," 
Osborn  said  to  Hester  that  night.  "  There 
would  be  the  devil  and  all  to  pay  if  anything 
went  wrong." 

The  mare  was  brought  over  the  next  morning. 
She  was  a  shining  bay,  and  her  name  was  Faustine. 

In  the  afternoon  Captain  Osborn  took  her  out. 
He  rode  her  far  and  learned  her  thoroughly  before 
he  brought  her  back.  She  was  as  lively  as  a 
kitten,  but  as  kind  as  a  dove.  Nothing  could  have 
been  better  tempered  and  safer.  She  would  pass 
anything,  even  the  unexpected  appearance  of  a 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  239 

road-mending  engine  turning  a  corner  did  not  per 
ceptibly  disturb  her. 

"  Is  she  well  behaved  ?  "  Hester  asked  at  dinner 
time. 

"  Yes,  apparently,"  was  his  answer ;  "  but  I  shall 
take  her  out  once  or  twice  again." 

He  did  take  her  out  again,  and  had  only  praise  for 
her  on  each  occasion.  But  the  riding  lessons  did  not 
begin  at  once.  In  fact  he  was,  for  a  number  of  rea 
sons,  in  a  sullen  and  unsociable  humour  which  did 
not  incline  him  towards  the  task  he  had  undertaken. 
He  made  various  excuses  for  not  beginning  the  les 
sons,  and  took  Faustine  out  almost  every  day. 

But  Hester  had  an  idea  that  he  did  not  enjoy 
his  rides.  He  used  to  return  from  them  with  a 
resentful,  sombre  look,  as  if  his  reflections  had  not 
been  pleasant  company  for  him.  In  truth  they  were 
not  pleasant  company.  He  was  beset  by  thoughts 
he  did  not  exactly  care  to  be  beset  by — thoughts 
which  led  him  farther  than  he  really  cared  to  go, 
which  did  not  incline  him  to  the  close  companion 
ship  of  Lady  Walderhurst.  It  was  these  thoughts 
which  led  him  on  his  long  rides ;  it  was  one  of 
them  which  impelled  him,  one  morning,  as  he  was 


24o  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

passing  a  heap  of  broken  stone,  piled  for  the  mend 
ing  of  the  ways  by  the  roadside,  to  touch  Faustine 
with  heel  and  whip.  The  astonished  young  animal 
sprang  aside  curvetting.  She  did  not  understand, 
and  to  horse-nature  the  uncomprehended  is  alarm 
ing.  She  was  more  bewildered  and  also  more 
fretted  when,  in  passing  the  next  stone  heap,  she 
felt  the  same  stinging  touches.  What  did  it  mean  ? 
Was  she  to  avoid  this  thing,  to  leap  at  sight  of  it, 
to  do  what  ?  She  tossed  her  delicate  head  and 
snorted  in  her  trouble.  The  country  road  was  at 
some  distance  from  Palstrcy,  and  was  little  fre 
quented.  No  one  was  in  sight.  Osborn  glanced 
about  him  to  make  sure  of  this  fact.  A  long 
stretch  of  road  lay  before  him,  with  stone  heaps 
piled  at  regular  intervals.  He  had  taken  a  big 
whiskey  and  soda  at  the  last  wayside  inn  he  had 
passed,  and  drink  did  not  make  him  drunk  so  much 
as  mad.  He  pushed  the  mare  ahead,  feeling  in 
just  the  humour  to  try  experiments  with  her. 

"  Alec  is  very  determined  that  you  shall  be  safe 
on  Faustine,"  Hester  said  to  Emily.  "  He  takes 
her  out  every  day." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  241 

"It  is  very  good  of  him,"  answered  Emily. 

Hester  thought  she  looked  a  trifle  nervous,  and 
wondered  why.  She  did  not  say  anything  about 
the  riding  lessons,  and  in  fact  had  seemed  of  late 
less  eager  and  interested.  In  the  first  place,  it  had 
been  Alec  who  had  postponed,  now  it  was  she. 
First  one  trifling  thing  and  then  another  seemed  to 
interpose. 

"  The  mare  is  as  safe  as  a  feather-bed,"  Osborn 
said  to  her  one  afternoon  when  they  were  taking 
tea  on  the  lawn  at  Palstrey.  "  You  had  better 
begin  now  if  you  wish  to  accomplish  anything 
before  Lord  Walderhurst  comes  back.  What  do 
you  hear  from  him  as  to  his  return  ?  " 

Emily  had  heard  that  he  was  likely  to  be  de 
tained  longer  than  he  had  expected.  It  seemed 
always  to  be  the  case  that  people  were  detained  by 
such  business.  He  was  annoyed,  but  it  could  not 
be  helped.  There  was  a  rather  tired  look  in  her 
eyes  and  she  was  paler  than  usual. 

"  I  am  going  up  to  town  to-morrow,"  she  said. 
u  The  riding  lessons  might  begin  after  I  come 
back." 

"  Are    you    anxious   about   anything  ?  "    Hester 


242  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

asked  her  as  she  was  preparing  for  the  drive  back 

to  The  Kennel  Farm. 

"No,  no,"  Emily  answered.     "  Only —  " 

"  Only  what  ?  " 

"  I  should  be  so  glad  if —  if  he  were  not 
away." 

Hester  gazed  reflectively  at  her  suddenly  quiver 
ing  face. 

"  I  don't  think  I  ever  saw  a  woman  so  fond  of 
a  man,"  she  said. 

Emily  stood  still.  She  was  quite  silent.  Her 
eyes  slowly  filled.  She  had  never  been  able  to  say 
much  about  what  she  felt  for  Walderhurst.  Hers 
was  a  large,  dumb,  primitive  affection. 

She  sat  at  her  open  bedroom  window  a  long  time 
that  evening.  She  rested  her  chin  upon  her  hand 
and  looked  up  at  the  deeps  of  blue  powdered  with 
the  diamond  dust  of  stars.  It  seemed  to  her  that 
she  had  never  looked  up  and  seen  such  myriads 
of  stars  before.  She  felt  far  away  from  earthly 
things  and  tremulously  uplifted.  During  the  last 
two  weeks  she  had  lived  in  a  tumult  of  mind,  of 
amazement,  of  awe,  of  hope  and  fear.  No  wonder 
that  she  looked  pale  and  that  her  face  was  full  of 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  243 

anxious  yearning.  There  were  such  wonders  in 
the  world,  and  she,  Emily  Fox-Seton,  no,  Emily 
Walderhurst,  seemed  to  have  become  part  of 
them. 

She  clasped  her  hands  tight  together  and  leaned 
forward  into  the  night  with  her  face  turned  up 
wards.  Very  large  drops  began  to  roll  fast  down 
her  cheeks,  one  after  the  other.  The  argument 
of  scientific  observation  might  have  said  she  was 
hysterical,  and  whether  with  or  without  reason  is 
immaterial.  She  did  not  try  to  check  her  tears  or 
wipe  them  away,  because  she  did  not  know  that 
she  was  crying.  She  began  to  pray,  and  heard  her 
self  saying  the  Lord's  Prayer  like  a  child. 

"  Our  Father  who  art  in  Heaven  —  Our  Father 
who  art  in  Heaven,  hallowed  be  Thy  name," 
she  murmured  imploringly. 

She  said  the  prayer  to  the  end,  and  then  began 
it  over  again.  She  said  it  three  or  four  times,  and 
her  appeal  for  daily  bread  and  the  forgiveness  of 
trespasses  expressed  what  her  inarticulate  nature 
could  not  have  put  into  words.  Beneath  the 
entire  vault  of  heaven's  dark  blue  that  night  there 
was  nowhere  lifted  to  the  Unknown  a  prayer  more 


244  EMILY    FOX-SETON 

humbly  passion-full  and  gratefully  imploring  than 

her  final  whisper. 

"  For  Thine  is  the  kingdom,  the  power,  and 
the  glory,  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen,  amen." 

When  she  left  her  seat  at  the  window  and 
turned  towards  the  room  again,  Jane  Cupp,  who 
was  preparing  for  the  morrow's  journey  and  was 
just  entering  with  a  dress  over  her  arm,  found 
herself  restraining  a  start  at  sight  of  her. 

"I  hope  you  are  quite  well,  my  lady,"  she 
faltered. 

"  Yes,"  Lady  Walderhurst  answered.  u  I  think 
I  am  very  well  —  very  well,  Jane.  You  will  be 
quite  ready  for  the  early  train  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Yes,  my  lady,  quite." 

"  I  have  been  thinking,"  said  Emily  gently, 
almost  in  a  tone  of  reverie, "  that  if  your  uncle  had 
not  wanted  your  mother  so  much  it  would  have 
been  nice  to  have  her  here  with  us.  She  is  such 
an  experienced  person,  and  so  kind.  I  never  forget 
how  kind  she  was  to  me  when  I  had  the  little 
room  in  Mortimer  Street." 

"  Oh !  my  lady,  you  was  kind  to  wj,"  cried 
Jane. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  245 

She  recalled  afterwards,  with  tears,  how  her  lady 
ship  moved  nearer  to  her  and  took  her  hand  with 
what  Jane  called  "  her  wonderful  good  look,"  which 
always  brought  a  lump  to  her  throat. 

u  But  I  always  count  on  you,  Jane,"  she  said. 
"  I  count  on  you  so  much." 

"  Oh  !  my  lady,"  Jane  cried  again,  "  it 's  my 
comfort  to  believe  it.  I  'd  lay  down  my  life  for 
your  ladyship,  I  would  indeed." 

Emily  sat  down,  and  on  her  face  there  was  a 
soft,  uplifted  smile. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  and  Jane  Cupp  saw  that  she 
was  reflective  again,  and  the  words  were  not 
addressed  exactly  to  herself,  "  one  would  be  quite 
ready  to  lay  down  one's  life  for  the  person  one 
loved.  It  seems  even  a  little  thing,  does  n't  it  ?  " 


ADY      WALDERHURST 

remained  in  town  a  week, 
and  Jane  Cupp  remained 
with  her,  in  the  house  in 
Berkeley  Square,  which  threw 
open  its  doors  to  receive 
them  on  their  arrival  quite  as  if  they  had  never 
left  it.  The  servants'  hall  brightened  tempo 
rarily  in  its  hope  that  livelier  doings  might  begin 
to  stir  the  establishment,  but  Jane  Cupp  was  able 
to  inform  inquirers  that  the  visit  was  only  to  be  a 
brief  one. 

"  We  are  going  back  to  Palstrey  next  Monday," 
she  explained.  u  My  lady  prefers  the  country, 
and  she  is  very  fond  of  Palstrey;  and  no  wonder. 
It  does  n't  seem  at  all  likely  she  '11  come  to  stay  in 
London  until  his  lordship  gets  back." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  247 

"  We  hear,"  said  the  head  housemaid,  "  that 
her  ladyship  is  very  kind  to  Captain  Osborn  and 
his  wife,  and  that  Mrs.  Osborn  's  in  a  delicate  state 
of  health." 

"  It  would  be  a  fine  thing  for  us  if  it  was  in  our 
family,"  remarked  an  under  housemaid  who  was 
pert. 

Jane  Cupp  looked  extremely  reserved. 

"  Is  it  true,"  the  pert  housemaid  persisted, 
"that  the  Osborns  can't  abide  her?" 

"  It 's  true,"  said  Jane,  severely,  "  that  she 's 
goodness  itself  to  them,  and  they  ought  to  adore 
her." 

"  We  hear  they  don't,"  put  in  the  tallest  foot 
man.  "And  who  wonders.  If  she  was  an  angel, 
there's  just  a  chance  that  she  may  give  Captain 
Osborn  a  wipe  in  the  eye,  though  she  is  in  her 
thirties." 

"  It 's  not  for  «j,"  said  Jane,  stiffly,  "  to  discuss 
thirties  or  forties  or  fifties  either,  which  are  no 
business  of  ours.  There  's  one  gentleman,  and 
him  a  marquis,  as  chose  her  over  the  heads  of  two 
beauties  in  their  teens,  at  least." 

"  Well,  for  the  matter  of  that,"  admitted  the  tali 


248  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

footman,  "  I  'd  have  chose  her  myself,  for  she  's  a 

fine  woman." 

Lady  Maria  was  just  on  the  point  of  leaving 
South  Audley  Street  to  make  some  visits  in  the 
North,  but  she  came  and  lunched  with  Emily,  and 
was  in  great  form. 

She  had  her  own  opinion  of  a  number  of  matters, 
some  of  which  she  discussed,  some  of  which  she 
kept  to  herself.  She  lifted  her  gold  lorgnette  and 
looked  Emily  well  over. 

"  Upon  my  word,  Emily,"  she  said,  "  I  am  proud 
of  you.  You  are  one  of  my  successes.  Your  looks 
are  actually  improving.  There's  something  rather 
etherealised  about  your  face  to-day.  I  quite  agree 
with  Walderhurst  in  all  the  sentimental  things  he 
says  about  you." 

She  said  this  last  partly  because  she  liked  Emily 
and  knew  it  would  please  her  to  hear  that  her  hus 
band  went  to  the  length  of  dwelling  on  her  charms 
in  his  conversation  with  other  people,  partly  be 
cause  it  entertained  her  to  see  the  large  creature's 
eyelids  flutter  and  a  big  blush  sweep  her  cheek. 

"  He  really  was  in  great  luck  when  he  discovered 
you,"  her  ladyship  went  on  briskly.  "As  for  that, 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  249 

I  was  in  luck  myself.  Suppose  you  had  been  a 
girl  who  could  not  have  been  left.  As  Walder- 
hurst  is  short  of  female  relatives,  it  would  have 
fallen  to  me  to  decently  dry-nurse  you.  And 
there  would  have  been  the  complications  arising 
from  a  girl  being  baby  enough  to  want  to  dance 
about  to  places,  and  married  enough  to  feel  her 
self  entitled  to  defy  her  chaperone ;  she  could  n't 
have  been  trusted  to  chaperone  herself.  As  it 
is,  Walderhurst,  can  go  where  duty  calls,  etc., 
and  I  can  make  my  visits  and  run  about,  and 
you,  dear  thing,  are  quite  happy  at  Palstrey  play 
ing  Lady  Bountiful  and  helping  the  little  half- 
breed  woman  to  expect  her  baby.  I  daresay  you 
sit  and  make  dolly  shirts  and  christening  robes 
hand  in  hand." 

"  We  enjoy  it  all  very  much,"  Emily  answered, 
adding  imploringly,  "  please  don't  call  her  a  little 
half-breed  woman.  She  's  such  a  dear  little  thing, 
Lady  Maria." 

Lady  Maria  indulged  in  the  familiar  chuckle  and 
put  up  her  lorgnette  to  examine  her  again. 

"  There 's  a  certain  kind  of  early  Victorian 
saintliness  about  you,  Emily  Walderhurst,  which 


250  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

makes  my  joy,"  she  said.  "You  remind  me  of 
Lady  Castlewood,  Helen  Pendennis,  and  Amelia 
Sedley,  with  the  spitefulness  and  priggishness  and 
catty  ways  left  out.  You  are  as  nice  as  Thack 
eray  thought  they  were,  poor  mistaken  man.  I  am 
not  going  to  suffuse  you  with  blushes  by  explaining 
to  you  that  there  is  what  my  nephew  would  call  a 
jolly  good  reason  why,  if  you  were  not  an  early 
Victorian  and  improved  Thackerayian  saint,  you 
would  not  be  best  pleased  at  finding  yourself 
called  upon  to  assist  at  this  interesting  occasion. 
Another  kind  of  woman  would  probably  feel  like 
a  cat  towards  the  little  Osborn.  But  even  the 
mere  reason  itself,  as  a  reason,  has  not  once 
risen  in  your  benign  and  pellucid  mind.  You 
have  a  pellucid  mind,  Emily ;  I  should  be  rather 
proud  of  the  word  if  I  had  invented  it  myself 
to  describe  you.  But  I  did  n't.  It  was  Walder- 
hurst.  You  have  actually  wakened  up  the  man's 
intellects,  such  as  they  are." 

She  evidently  had  a  number  of  opinions  of  the 
Osborns.  She  liked  neither  of  them,  but  it  was 
Captain  Osborn  she  especially  disliked. 

"  He  is  really  an   underbred  person,"  she  ex- 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  251 

plained,  "  and  he  has  n't  the  sharpness  to  know 
that  is  the  reason  Walderhurst  detests  him.  He 
had  vulgar,  cheap  sort  of  affairs,  and  nearly  got 
into  the  kind  of  trouble  people  don't  forgive. 
What  a  fool  a  creature  in  his  position  is  to 
offend  the  taste  of  the  man  he  may  inherit  from, 
and  who,  if  he  were  not  antagonistic  to  him, 
would  regard  him  as  a  sort  of  duty.  It  was  n't 
his  immorality  particularly.  Nobody  is  either 
moral  or  immoral  in  these  days,  but  penniless 
persons  must  be  decent.  It 's  all  a  matter  of 
taste  and  manners.  I  have  n't  any  morals  myself, 
my  dear,  but  I  have  beautiful  manners.  A  woman 
can  have  the  kind  of  manners  which  keep  her  from 
breaking  the  Commandments.  As  to  the  Com 
mandments,  they  are  awfully  easy  things  not  to 
break.  Who  wants  to  break  them,  good  Lord  ! 
Thou  shalt  do  no  murder.  Thou  shalt  not  steal. 
Thou  shalt  not  commit,  etc.  Thou  shalt  not  bear 
false  witness.  That  's  simply  gossip  and  lying,  and 
they  are  bad  manners.  If  you  have  good  manners, 
you  don't." 

She  chatted   on   in   her   pungent   little  worldly, 
good-humoured  way  through  the  making  of  a  very 


252  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

excellent  lunch.  After  which  she  settled  her  smart 
bonnet  with  clever  touches,  kissed  Emily  on  both 
cheeks,  and  getting  into  her  brougham  rolled  off 
smiling  and  nodding. 

Emily  stood  at  the  drawing-room  window  and 
watched  her  equipage  roll  round  the  square  and 
into  Charles  Street,  and  then  turned  away  into  the 
big,  stately  empty  room,  sighing  without  intending 
to  do  so  while  she  smiled  herself. 

14  She  's  so  witty  and  so  amusing,"  she  said  ;  "  but 
one  would  no  more  think  of  telling  her  anything 
than  one  would  think  of  catching  a  butterfly  and 
holding  it  while  one  made  it  listen.  She  would  be 
so  bored  if  she  was  confided  in." 

Which  was  most  true.  Never  in  her  life  had 
her  ladyship  allowed  herself  the  indiscretion  of 
appearing  a  person  in  whom  confidences  might  be 
reposed.  She  had  always  had  confidences  enough 
of  her  own  to  take  care  of,  without  sharing  those 
of  other  people. 

"  Good  heavens!  "  she  had  exclaimed  once,  "  I 
should  as  soon  think  of  assuming  another  woman's 
wrinkles." 

On  the  first  visit  Lady  Walderhurst   made  to 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  253 

The  Kennel  Farm  the  morning  after  her  return  to 
Palstrey,  when  Alec  Osborn  helped  her  from  her 
carriage,  he  was  not  elated  by  the  fact  that  he  had 
never  seen  her  look  so  beautifully  alive  and  bloom 
ing  during  his  knowledge  of  her.  There  was  a 
fine  rose  on  her  cheek,  and  her  eyes  were  large 
and  happily  illumined. 

"  How  well  you  look  !  "  broke  from  him  with 
an  involuntariness  he  was  alarmed  to  realise  as 
almost  spiteful.  The  words  were  an  actual  ex 
clamation  which  he  had  not  meant  to  utter,  and 
Emily  Walderhurst  even  started  a  trifle  and  looked 
at  him  with  a  moment's  question. 

"  But  you  look  well,  too,"  she  answered.  "  Palstrey 
agrees  with  both  of  us.  You  have  such  a  colour." 

"  I  have  been  riding,"  he  replied.  "  I  told  you 
I  meant  to  know  Faustine  thoroughly  before  I  let 
you  mount  her.  She  is  ready  for  you  now.  Can 
you  take  your  first  lesson  to-morrow  ?  " 

"I  —  I  don't  quite  know,"  she  hesitated.  "  I 
will  tell  you  a  little  later.  Where  is  Hester  ?  " 

Hester  was  in  the  drawing-room.  She  was 
lying  on  a  sofa  before  an  open  window  and  looking 
rather  haggard  and  miserable.  She  had,  in  fact, 


254  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

just  had  a  curious  talk  with  Alec  which  had  ended 
in  something  like  a  scene.  As  Hester's  health 
grew  more  frail,  her  temper  became  more  fierce, 
and  of  late  there  had  been  times  when  a  certain 
savagery,  concealed  with  difficulty  in  her  husband's 
moods,  affected  her  horribly. 

This  morning  she  felt  a  new  character  in  Emily's 
manner.  She  was  timid  and  shy,  and  a  little 
awkward.  Her  child-like  openness  of  speech  and 
humour  seemed  obscured.  She  had  less  to  say 
than  usual,  and  at  the  same  time  there  was  a  sug 
gestion  of  restless  unease  about  her.  Hester 
Osborn,  after  a  few  minutes,  began  to  have  an  odd 
feeling  that  the  woman's  eyes  held  a  question  or  a 
desire  in  them. 

She  had  brought  some  superb  roses  from  the 
Manor  gardens,  and  she  moved  about  arranging 
them  for  Hester  in  vases. 

"  It  is  beautiful  to  come  back  to  the  country," 
she  said.  "  When  I  get  into  the  carriage  at  the 
station  and  drive  through  the  sweet  air,  I  always 
feel  as  if  I  were  beginning  to  live  again,  and  as  if 
in  London  I  had  not  been  quite  alive.  It  seemed 
so  heavenly  in  the  rose  garden  at  Palstrey  to-day, 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  255 

to  walk  about  among  those  thousands  of  blooming 
lovely  things  breathing  scent  and  nodding  their 
heavy,  darling  heads." 

"The  roads  are  in  a  beautiful  condition  for 
riding,"  Hester  said,  "  and  Alec  says  that  Faustine 
is  perfect.  You  ought  to  begin  to-morrow  morn 
ing.  Shall  you  ? " 

She  spoke  the  words  somewhat  slowly,  and  her 
face  did  not  look  happy.  But,  then,  it  never  was 
a  really  happy  face.  The  days  of  her  youth  had 
been  too  full  of  the  ironies  of  disappointment. 

There  was  a  second's  silence,  and  then  she  said 
again  : 

"  Shall  you,  if  it  continues  fine  ?  " 

Emily's  hands  were  full  of  roses,  both  hands, 
and  Hester  saw  both  hands  and  roses  tremble. 
She  turned  round  slowly  and  came  towards  her. 
She  looked  nervous,  awkward,  abashed,  and  as  if 
for  that  moment  she  was  a  big  girl  of  sixteen 
appealing  to  her  and  overwhelmed  with  queer  feel 
ings,  and  yet  the  depths  of  her  eyes  held  a  kind 
of  trembling,  ecstatic  light.  She  came  and  stood 
before  her,  holding  the  trembling  roses  as  if  she  had 
been  called  up  for  confession. 


256  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  I  —  I  must  n't,"  she  half  whispered.  The 
corners  of  her  lips  drooped  and  quivered,  and  her 
voice  was  so  low  that  Hester  could  scarcely  hear 
it.  But  she  started  and  half  sat  up. 

"  You  must  n't  ?  "  she  gasped  ;  yes,  really  it  was 
gasped. 

Emily's  hand  trembled  so  that  the  roses  began  to 
fall  one  by  one,  scattering  a  rain  of  petals  as  they 
dropped. 

"  I  must  n't,"  she  repeated,  low  and  shakily. 
"  I  had  —  reason.  — I  went  to  town  to  see  —  some 
body.  I  saw  Sir  Samuel  Brent,  and  he  told  me 
I  must  not.  He  is  quite  sure." 

She  tried  to  calm  herself  and  smile.  But  the 
smile  quivered  and  ended  in  a  pathetic  contortion 
of  her  face.  In  the  hope  of  gaining  decent  self- 
control,  she  bent  down  to  pick  up  the  dropped 
roses.  Before  she  had  picked  up  two,  she  let  all 
the  rest  fall,  and  sank  kneeling  among  them,  her 
face  in  her  hands. 

"  Oh,  Hester,  Hester  !  "  she  panted,  with  sweet, 
stupid  unconciousness  of  the  other  woman's  heav 
ing  chest  and  glaring  eyes.  "  It  has  come  to  me 
too,  actually,  after  all." 


Chapter 
{fifteen 


HE    Palstrey   Manor    carriage 
—   ">  |3p9l>j)  had  just  rolled  away  carrying 
I  Lady     Walderhurst      home. 

l>^  ^"^2  The  big^  low-ceilinged,  oak- 
beamed  farm-house  parlour 
was  full  of  the  deep  golden 
sunlight  of  the  late  afternoon,  the  air  was  heavy 
with  the  scent  of  roses  and  sweet-peas  and  mignon 
ette,  the  adorable  fragrance  of  English  country- 
house  rooms.  Captain  Osborn  inhaled  it  at  each 
breath  as  he  stood  and  looked  out  of  the  diamond- 
paned  window,  watching  the  landau  out  of  sight. 
He  felt  the  scent  and  the  golden  glow  of  the  sunset 
light  as  intensely  as  he  felt  the  dead  silence  which 
reigned  between  himself  and  Hester  almost  with 
the  effect  of  a  physical  presence.  Hester  was  lying 


258  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

upon  the  sofa  again,  and  he  knew  she  was  staring 
at  his  back  with  that  sardonic  widening  of  her  long 
eyes,  a  thing  he  hated,  and  which  always  foreboded 
things  not  pleasant  to  face. 

He  did  not  turn  to  face  them  until  the  footman's 
cockade  had  disappeared  finally  behind  the  tall 
hedge,  and  the  tramp  of  the  horses'  feet  was  deaden 
ing  itself  in  the  lane.  When  he  ceased  watching 
and  listening,  he  wheeled  round  suddenly. 

"  What  does  it  all  mean  ? "  he  demanded. 
"  Hang  her  foolish  airs  and  graces.  Why  won't 
she  ride,  for  she  evidently  does  not  intend  to." 

Hester  laughed,  a  hard,  short,  savage  little  un- 
mirthful  sound  it  was. 

"  No,  she  does  n't  intend  to,"  she  answered 
"  for  many  a  long  day,  at  least,  for  many  a  month. 
She  has  Sir  Samuel  Brent's  orders  to  take  the 
greatest  care  of  herself." 

"  Brent's  ?     Brent's  ?  " 

Hester  struck  her  lean  little  hands  together  and 
laughed  this  time  with  a  hint  at  hysteric  shrillness. 

"  I  told  you  so,  I  told  you  so  !  "  she  cried.  "  I 
knew  it  would  be  so,  I  knew  it !  By  the  time  she 
reaches  her  thirty-sixth  birthday  there  will  be  a 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  259 

new  Marquis  of  Walderhurst,  and  he  won't  be 
either  you  or  yours."  And  as  she  finished,  she 
rolled  over  on  the  sofa,  and  bit  the  cushions  with 
her  teeth  as  she  lay  face  downwards  on  them.  "  He 
won't  be  you,  or  belong  to  you,"  she  reiterated,  and 
then  she  struck  the  cushions  with  her  clenched  fist. 

He  rushed  over  to  her,  and  seizing  her  by  the 
shoulders  shook  her  to  and  fro. 

"  You  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about," 
he  said ;  "  you  don't  know  what  you  are  saying." 

"  I  do  !  I  do  !  I  do  ! "  she  screamed  under  her 
breath,  and  beat  the  cushions  at  every  word. 
"  It 's  true,  it 's  true.  She  's  drivelling  about  it, 
drivelling  !  " 

Alec  Osborn  threw  back  his  head,  drawing  in  a 
hard  breath  which  was  almost  a  snort  of  fury. 

"  By  God  !  "  he  cried,  u  if  she  went  out  on 
Faustine  now,  she  would  not  come  back !  " 

His  rage  had  made  him  so  far  beside  himself 
that  he  had  said  more  than  he  intended,  far  more 
than  he  would  have  felt  safe.  But  the  girl  was  as 
far  beside  herself  as  he  was,  and  she  took  him  up. 

"  Serve  her  right,"  she  cried.  "  I  should  n't 
care.  I  hate  her !  I  hate  her  !  I  told  you  once  I 


26o  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

could  n't,  but  I  do.  She 's  the  biggest  fool  that 
ever  lived.  She  knew  nothing  of  what  I  felt.  I 
believe  she  thought  I  would  rejoice  with  her.  I 
did  n't  know  whether  I  should  shriek  in  her  face  or 
scream  out  laughing.  Her  eyes  were  as  big  as 
saucers,  and  she  looked  at  me  as  if  she  felt  like  the 
Virgin  Mary  after  the  Annunciation.  Oh  !  the 
stupid,  inhuman  fool  !  " 

Her  words  rushed  forth  faster  and  faster,  she 
caught  her  breath  with  gasps,  and  her  voice  grew 
more  shrill  at  every  sentence.  Osborn  shook  her 
again. 

"  Keep  quiet,"  he  ordered  her.  "  You  are  going 
into  hysterics,  and  it  won't  do.  Get  hold  of  your 
self." 

"  Go  for  Ameerah,"  she  gasped,  "  or  I  'm  afraid 
I  can't.  She  knows  what  to  do." 

He  went  for  Ameerah,  and  the  silently  gliding 
creature  came  bringing  her  remedies  with  her.  She 
looked  at  her  mistress  with  stealthily  questioning  but 
affectionate  eyes,  and  sat  down  on  the  floor  rubbing 
her  hands  and  feet  in  a  sort  of  soothing  massage. 
Osborn  went  out  of  the  room,  and  the  two  women 
were  left  together.  Ameerah  knew  many  ways  of 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  261 

calming  her  mistress's  nerves,  and  perhaps  one  of 
the  chief  ones  was  to  lead  her  by  subtle  powers  to 
talk  out  her  rages  and  anxieties.  Hester  never 
knew  that  she  was  revealing  herself  and  her  moods 
until  after  her  interviews  with  the  Ayah  were  over. 
Sometimes  an  hour  or  so  had  passed  before  she  be 
gan  to  realise  that  she  had  let  out  things  which  she 
had  meant  to  keep  secret.  It  was  never  Ameerah 
who  talked,  and  Hester  was  never  conscious  that 
she  talked  very  much  herself.  But  afterwards  she 
saw  that  the  few  sentences  she  had  uttered  were  such 
as  would  satisfy  curiosity  if  the  Ayah  felt  it.  Also 
she  was  not,  on  the  whole,  at  all  sure  that  the 
woman  felt  it.  She  showed  no  outward  sign  of 

O 

any  interest  other  than  the  interest  of  a  deep  affec 
tion.  She  loved  her  young  mistress  to-day  as  pas 
sionately  as  she  had  loved  her  as  a  child  when  she  had 
held  her  in  her  bosom  as  if  she  had  been  her  own. 
By  the  time  Emily  Walderhurst  had  reached 
Palstrey,  Ameerah  knew  many  things.  She  under 
stood  that  her  mistress  was  as  one  who,  standing 
upon  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  was  being  slowly  but 
surely  pushed  over  its  edge  —  pushed,  pushed  by 
Fate.  This  was  the  thing  imaged  in  her  mind 


262  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

when  she  shut  herself  up  in  her  room  and  stood 
alone  in  the  midst  of  the  chamber  clenching  her 
dark  hands  high  above  her  white  veiled  head,  and 
uttering  curses  which  were  spells,  and  spells  which 
were  curses. 

Emily  was  glad  that  she  had  elected  to  be  alone 
as  much  as  possible,  and  had  not  invited  people  to 
come  and  stay  with  her.  She  had  not  invited 
people,  in  honest  truth,  because  she  felt  shy  of  the 
responsibility  of  entertainment  while  Walderhurst 
was  not  with  her.  It  would  have  been  proper  to 
invite  his  friends,  and  his  friends  were  all  people 
she  was  too  much  in  awe  of,  and  too  desirous  to 
please  to  be  able  to  enjoy  frankly  as  society.  She 
had  told  herself  that  when  she  had  been  married  a 
few  years  she  would  be  braver. 

And  now  her  gladness  was  so  devout  that  it  was 
pure  rejoicing.  How  could  she  have  been  calm, 
how  could  she  have  been  conversational,  while 
through  her  whole  being  there  surged  but  one 
thought.  She  was  sure  that  while  she  talked  to 
people  she  would  have  been  guilty  of  looking  as  if 
she  was  thinking  of  something  not  in  the  least 
connected  with  themselves. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  263 

If  she  had  been  less  romantically  sentimental  in 
her  desire  to  avoid  all  semblance  of  burdening  her 
husband  she  would  have  ordered  him  home  at  once, 
and  demanded  as  a  right  the  protection  of  his 
dignity  and  presence.  If  she  had  been  less  humble 
she  would  have  felt  the  importance  of  her  position 
and  the  gravity  of  the  claims  it  gave  her  to  his 
consideration,  instead  of  being  lost  in  prayerful 
gratitude  to  heaven. 

She  had  been  rather  stupidly  mistaken  in  not 
making  a  confidante  of  Lady  Maria  Bayne,  but  she 
had  been,  in  her  big  girl  shyness,  entirely  like  her 
self.  In  some  remote  part  of  her  nature  she  had 
shrunk  from  a  certain  look  of  delighted  amusement 
which  she  had  known  would  have  betrayed  itself, 
despite  her  ladyship's  good  intentions,  in  the  eyes 
assisted  by  the  smart  gold  lorgnette.  She  knew 
she  was  inclined  to  be  hyper-emotional  on  this 
subject,  and  she  felt  that  if  she  had  seen  the  humour 
trying  to  conceal  itself  behind  the  eye-glasses,  she 
might  have  been  hysterical  enough  to  cry  even 
while  she  tried  to  laugh,  and  pass  her  feeling  off 
lightly.  Oh,  no  !  Oh,  no  !  Somehow  she  knew 
that  at  such  a  moment,  for  some  fantastic,  if  subtle, 


264  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

reason,  Lady  Maria  would  only  see  her  as  Emily 
Fox-Seton,  that  she  would  have  actually  figured 
before  her  for  an  instant  as  poor  Emily  Fox-Seton 
making  an  odd  confession.  She  could  not  have 
endured  it  without  doing  something  foolish,  she  felt 
that  she  would  not,  indeed. 

So  Lady  Maria  went  gaily  away  to  make  her 
round  of  visits  and  be  the  amusing  old  life  and  soul 
of  house-party  after  house-party,  suspecting  noth 
ing  of  a  possibility  which  would  actually  have 
sobered  her  for  a  moment. 

Emily  passed  her  days  at  Palstrey  in  a  state  of 
happy  exaltation.  For  a  week  or  so  they  were 
spent  in  wondering  whether  or  not  she  should 
write  a  letter  to  Lord  Walderhurst  which  should 
convey  the  information  to  him  which  even  Lady 
Maria  would  have  regarded  as  important,  but  the 
more  she  argued  the  question  with  herself,  the  less 
she  wavered  from  her  first  intention.  Lady  Maria's 
frank  congratulation  of  herself  and  Lord  Walder 
hurst  in  his  wife's  entire  unexactingness  had  indeed 
been  the  outcome  of  a  half-formed  intention  to 
dissipate  amiably  even  the  vaguest  inclination  to 
verge  on  expecting  things  from  people.  While 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  265 

she  thought  Emily  unlikely  to  allow  herself  to 
deteriorate  into  an  encumbrance,  her  ladyship  had 
seen  women  in  her  position  before,  whose  mar 
riages  had  made  perfect  fools  of  them  through 
causing  them  to  lose  their  heads  completely  and 
require  concessions  and  attentions  from  their  newly 
acquired  relations  which  bored  everybody.  So  she 
had  lightly  patted  and  praised  Emily  for  the  course 
of  action  she  preferred  to  "  keep  her  up  to." 

"  She 's  the  kind  of  woman  ideas  sink  into  if 
they  are  well  put,"  she  had  remarked  in  times  gone 
by.  "  She  's  not  sharp  enough  to  see  that  things  are 
being  suggested  to  her,  but  a  suggestion  acts  upon 
her  delightfully." 

Her  suggestions  acted  upon  Emily  as  she  walked 
about  the  gardens  at  Palstrey,  pondering  in  the  sun 
shine  and  soothed  by  the  flower  scents  of  the 
warmed  borders.  Such  a  letter  written  to  Walder- 
hurst  might  change  his  cherished  plans,  concerning 
which  she  knew  he  held  certain  ambitions.  He 
had  been  so  far  absorbed  in  them  that  he  had  gone 
to  India  at  a  time  of  the  year  which  was  not 
usually  chosen  for  the  journey.  He  had  become 
further  interested  and  absorbed  after  he  had  reached 


266  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

the  country,  and  he  was  evidently  likely  to  prolong 
his  stay  as  he  had  not  thought  of  prolonging  it. 
He  wrote  regularly  though  not  frequently,  and 
Emily  had  gathered  from  the  tone  of  his  letters 
that  he  was  more  interested  than  he  had  ever  been 
in  his  life  before. 

"I  would  not  interfere  with  his  work  for  anything 
in  the  world,"  she  said.  "  He  cares  more  for  it  than 
he  usually  cares  for  things.  I  care  for  everything 

—  I  have  that  kind  of  mind  ;  an  intellectual  person 
is  different.     I  am  perfectly  well  and  happy  here. 
And  it  will  be  so  nice  to  look  forward." 

She  was  not  aware  how  Lady  Maria's  sugges 
tions  had  "  sunk  in."  She  would  probably  have 
reached  the  same  conclusion  without  their  having 
been  made,  but  since  they  had  been  made,  they 
had  assisted  her.  There  was  one  thing  of  all 
others  she  felt  she  could  not  possibly  bear,  which 
was  to  realise  that  she  herself  could  bring  to  her 
James's  face  an  expression  she  had  once  or  twice 
seen  others  bring  there  (Captain  Osborn  notably), 

—  an  expression  of  silent  boredom  on  the  verge  of 
irritation.     Even  radiant  domestic  joy  might  not 
be  able  to  overrule  this,  if  just  at  this  particular 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  267 

juncture  he  found  himself  placed  in  the  position  of 
a  man  whom  decency  compelled  to  take  the  next 
steamer  to  England. 

If  she  had  felt  tenderly  towards  Hester  Osborn 
before,  the  feeling  was  now  increased  tenfold.  She 
went  to  see  her  oftener,  she  began  to  try  to  per 
suade  her  to  come  and  stay  at  Palstrey.  She  was 
all  the  more  kind  because  Hester  seemed  less  well, 
and  was  in  desperate  ill  spirits.  Her  small  face  had 
grown  thin  and  yellow,  she  had  dark  rings  under 
her  eyes,  and  her  little  hands  were  hot  and  looked 
like  bird's  claws.  She  did  not  sleep  and  had  lost 
her  appetite. 

"  You  must  come  and  stay  at  Palstrey  for  a  few 
days,"  Emily  said  to  her.  "  The  mere  change  from 
one  house  to  another  may  make  you  sleep  better." 

But  Hester  was  not  inclined  to  avail  herself  of 
the  invitation.  She  made  obstacles  and  delayed 
acceptance  for  one  reason  and  another.  She  was, 
in  fact,  all  the  more  reluctant  because  her  husband 
wished  her  to  make  the  visit.  Their  opposed 
opinions  had  resulted  in  one  of  their  scenes. 

"  I  won't  go,"  she  had  said  at  first.  "  I  tell  you 
I  won't." 


268  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  You  will,"  he  answered.  "  It  will  be  better 
for  you." 

"  Will  it  be  worse  for  me  if  I  don't  ?  "  she 
laughed  feverishly.  "  And  how  will  it  be  better  for 
you  if  I  do  ?  I  know  you  are  in  it." 

He  lost  his  temper  and  was  indiscreet,  as  his  tem 
per  continually  betrayed  him  into  being. 

"  Yes,  I  am  in  it,"  he  said  through  his  teeth, 
11  as  you  might  have  the  sense  to  see.  Everything 
is  the  better  for  us  that  throws  us  with  them,  and 
makes  them  familiar  with  the  thought  of  us  and  our 
rights." 

"  Our  rights,"  the  words  were  a  shrill  taunt. 

"What  rights  have  you,  likely  to  be  recognised, 
unless  you  kill  her.  Are  you  going  to  kill  her  ?  " 

He  had  a  moment  of  insanity. 

"  I  'd  kill  her  and  you  too  if  it  was  safe  to  do  it. 
You  both  deserve  it  !  " 

He  flung  across  the  room,  having  lost  his  wits  as 
well  as  his  temper.  But  a  second  later  both  came 
back  to  him  as  in  a  revulsion  of  feeling. 

"I  talk  like  a  melodramatic  fool,"  he  cried. 
"  Oh,  Hester,  forgive  me  !  "  He  knelt  on  the  floor 
by  her  side,  caressing  her  imploringly.  "  We  both 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  269 

take  fire  in  the  same  way.  We  are  both  driven 
crazy  by  this  damned  blow.  We  're  beaten  ;  we 
may  as  well  own  it  and  take  what  we  can  get.  She 's 
a  fool,  but  she's  better  than  that  pompous,  stiff 
brute  Walderhurst,  and  she  has  a  lot  of  pull  over 
him  he  knows  nothing  about.  The  smug  animal 
is  falling  in  love  with  her  in  his  way.  She  can 
make  him  do  the  decent  thing.  Let  us  keep  friends 
with  her." 

"  The  decent  thing  would  be  a  thousand  a  year," 
wailed  Hester,  giving  in  to  his  contrition  in  spite  of 
herself,  because  she  had  once  been  in  love  with  him, 
and  because  she  was  utterly  helpless.  "  Five  hun 
dred  a  year  would  n't  be  ///decent." 

"  Let  us  keep  on  her  good  side,"  he  said,  fond 
ling  her,  with  a  relieved  countenance.  "  Tell  her 
you  will  come  and  that  she  is  an  angel,  and  that 
you  are  sure  a  visit  to  the  Manor  will  save  your  life." 

They  went  to  Palstrey  a  few  days  later. 
Ameerah  accompanied  them  in  attendance  upon 
her  mistress,  and  the  three  settled  down  into  a  life 
so  regular  that  it  scarcely  seemed  to  wear  the  aspect 
of  a  visit.  The  Osborns  were  given  some  of  the 
most  beautiful  and  convenient  rooms  in  the  house. 


270  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

No  other  visitors  were  impending  and  the  whole  big 
place  was  at  their  disposal.  Hester's  boudoir  over 
looked  the  most  perfect  nooks  of  garden,  and  its 
sweet  chintz  draperies  and  cushions  and  books  and 
flowers  made  it  a  luxurious  abode  of  peace. 

"  What  shall  I  do,"  she  said  on  the  first  evening 
in  it  as  she  sat  in  a  soft  chair  by  the  window,  look 
ing  out  at  the  twilight  and  talking  to  Emily. 
"  What  shall  I  do  when  I  must  go  away  ?  " 

"  I  don 't  mean  only  from  here,  —  I  mean  away 
from  England,  to  loathly  India." 

"  Do  you  dislike  it  so?  "  Emily  asked,  roused  to 
a  new  conception  of  her  feeling  by  her  tone. 

"  I  could  never  describe  to  you  how  much," 
fiercely.  "  It  is  like  going  to  the  place  which  is 
the  opposite  of  Heaven." 

"  I  did  not  know  that,"  pityingly.  "  Perhaps  — 
I  wonder  if  something  might  not  be  done  :  I  must 
talk  to  my  husband." 

Ameerah  seemed  to  develop  an  odd  fancy  for  the 
society  of  Jane  Cupp,  which  Jane  was  obliged  to 
confess  to  her  mistress  had  a  tendency  to  pro 
duce  in  her  system  "  the  creeps." 

"  You  must  try  to  overcome  it,  Jane,"    Lady 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  271 

Walderhurst  said.  "  I  'm  afraid  it 's  because  of 
her  colour.  I  've  felt  a  little  silly  and  shy  about 
her  myself,  but  it  is  n't  nice  of  us.  You  ought  to 
read  c  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,'  and  all  about  that  poor 
religious  Uncle  Tom,  and  Legree,  and  Eliza  crossing 
the  river  on  the  blocks  of  ice." 

"  I  have  read  it  twice,  your  ladyship,"  was  Jane's 
earnestly  regretful  response,  "  and  most  awful  it  is, 
and  made  me  and  mother  cry  beyond  words.  And 
I  suppose  it  is  the  poor  creature's  colour  that  's 
against  her,  and  I  'm  trying  to  be  kind  to  her,  but 
I  must  own  that  she  makes  me  nervous.  She  asks 
me  such  a  lot  of  questions  in  her  queer  way,  and 
stares  at  me  so  quiet.  She  actually  asked  me  quite 
sudden  the  other  day  if  I  loved  the  big  Mem  Sahib. 
I  did  n't  know  what  she  could  mean  at  first,  but 
after  a  while  I  found  out  it  was  her  Indian  way  of 
meaning  your  ladyship,  and  she  did  n't  intend  dis 
respect,  because  she  spoke  of  you  most  humble  after 
wards,  and  called  his  lordship  the  Heaven  born." 

11  Be  as  kind  as  you  can  to  her,  Jane,"  instructed 
her  mistress.  "  And  take  her  a  nice  walk  occasion 
ally.  I  daresay  she  feels  very  homesick  here." 

What  Ameerah  said  to  her  mistress    was    that 


272  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

these  English  servant  women  were  pigs  and  devils, 
and  could  conceal  nothing  from  those  who  chose  to 
find  out  things  from  them.  If  Jane  had  known  that 
the  Ayah  could  have  told  her  of  every  movement 
she  made  during  the  day  or  night,  of  her  up-gettings 
and  down-lyings,  of  the  hour  and  moment  of  every 
service  done  for  the  big  Mem  Sahib,  of  why  and 
how  and  when  and  where  each  thing  was  done,  she 
would  have  been  frightened  indeed. 

One  day,  it  is  true,  she  came  into  Lady  Walder- 
hurst's  sleeping  apartment  to  find  Ameerah  stand 
ing  in  the  middle  of  it  looking  round  its  contents 
with  restless,  timid,  bewildered  eyes.  She  wore, 
indeed,  the  manner  of  an  alarmed  creature  who  did 
not  know  how  she  had  got  there. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ? "  demanded  Jane. 
"  You  have  no  right  in  this  part  of  the  house. 
You  're  taking  a  great  liberty,  and  your  mistress 
will  be  angry." 

"  My  Mem  Sahib  asked  for  a  book,"  the  Ayah 
quite  shivered  in  her  alarmed  confusion.  "Your 
Mem  Sahib  said  it  was  here.  They  did  not  order 
me,  but  I  thought  I  would  come  to  you.  I  did 
not  know  it  was  forbidden." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  273 

"  What  was  the  book  ?  "  inquired  Jane  severely. 
"  I  will  take  it  to  her  ladyship." 

But  Ameerah  was  so  frightened  that  she  had 
forgotten  the  name,  and  when  Jane  knocked  at 
the  door  of  Mrs.  Osborn's  boudoir,  it  was  empty, 
both  the  ladies  having  gone  into  the  garden. 

But  Ameerah's  story  was  quite  true,  Lady  Wal- 
derhurst  said  in  the  evening  when  Jane  spoke  of 
the  matter  as  she  dressed  her  for  dinner.  They 
had  been  speaking  of  a  book  containing  records  of 
certain  historical  Walderhursts.  It  was  one  Emily 
had  taken  from  the  library  to  read  in  her  bedroom. 

"  We  did  not  ask  her  to  go  for  it.  In  fact  I 
did  not  know  the  woman  was  within  hearing.  She 
moves  about  so  noiselessly  one  frequently  does  not 
know  when  she  is  near.  Of  course  she  meant 
very  well,  but  she  does  not  know  our  English 
ways." 

"  No,  my  lady,  she  does  not,"  said  Jane,  respect 
fully  but  firmly.  "  I  took  the  liberty  of  telling  her 
she  must  keep  to  her  own  part  of  the  house  unless 
required  by  your  ladyship." 

"You  mustn't  frighten  the  poor  creature," 
laughed  her  mistress.  She  was  rather  touched 


274  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

indeed  by  the  slavish  desire  to  please  and  do  service 
swiftly  which  the  Ayah's  blunder  seemed  to  indi 
cate.  She  had  wished  to  save  her  mistress  even 
the  trouble  of  giving  the  order.  That  was  her 
Oriental  way,  Emily  thought,  and  it  was  very 
affectionate  and  child-like. 

Being  reminded  of  the  book  again,  she  carried  it 
down  herself  into  the  drawing-room.  It  was  a 
volume  she  was  fond  of  because  it  recorded  roman 
tic  stories  of  certain  noble  dames  of  Walderhurst 
lineage. 

Her  special  predilection  was  a  Dame  Ellena, 
who,  being  left  with  but  few  servitors  in  attend 
ance  during  her  lord's  absence  from  his  castle  on  a 
foraging  journey  into  an  enemy's  country,  had  de 
fended  the  stronghold  boldly  against  the  attack  of 
a  second  enemy  who  had  adroitly  seized  the  oppor 
tunity  to  forage  for  himself.  In  the  cellars  had 
been  hidden  treasure  recently  acquired  by  the  usual 
means,  and  knowing  this,  Dame  Ellena  had  done 
splendid  deeds,  marshalling  her  small  forces  in 
such  way  as  deceived  the  attacking  party  and  show 
ing  herself  in  scorn  upon  the  battlements,  a  fierce, 
beauteous  woman  about  to  give  her  lord  an  heir, 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  275 

yet  fearing  naught,  and  only  made  more  fierce  and 
full  of  courage  by  this  fact.  The  son,  born  but 
three  weeks  later,  had  been  the  most  splendid  and 
savage  fighter  of  his  name,  and  a  giant  in  build  and 
strength. 

"  I  suppose,"  Emily  said  when  they  discussed 
the  legend  after  dinner,  "  I  suppose  she  felt  that 
she  could  do  anything"  with  her  italics.  "  I  daresay 
nothing  could  make  her  afraid,  but  the  thought  that 
something  might  go  wrong  while  her  husband  was 
away.  And  strength  was  given  her." 

She  was  so  thrilled  that  she  got  up  and  walked 
across  the  room  with  quite  a  fine  sweep  of  heroic 
movement  in  her  momentary  excitement.  She 
held  her  head  up  and  smiled  with  widening  eyes. 

But  she  saw  Captain  Osborn  drag  at  his  black 
moustache  to  hide  an  unattractive  grin,  and  she  was 
at  once  abashed  into  feeling  silly  and  shy.  She  sat 
down  again  with  awkward  self-consciousness. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  'm  making  you  laugh  at  me," 
she  apologised,  "  but  that  story  always  gives  me 
such  a  romantic  feeling.  I  like  her  so." 

"  Oh  !  not  at  all,  not  all,"  said  Osborn.  "  I 
was  not  laughing  really  j  oh  no  !  " 


276  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

But  he  had  been,  and  had  been  secretly  calling 
her  a  sentimental,  ramping  idiot. 

It  was  a  great  day  for  Jane  Cupp  when  her 
mother  arrived  at  Palstrey  Manor.  It  was  a  great 
day  for  Mrs.  Cupp  also.  When  she  descended 
from  the  train  at  the  little  country  station,  warm 
and  somewhat  flushed  by  her  emotions  and  the 
bugled  splendours  of  her  best  bonnet  and  black 
silk  mantle,  the  sight  of  Jane  standing  neatly  upon 
the  platform  almost  overcame  her.  Being  led  to 
his  lordship's  own  private  bus,  and  seeing  her  trunk 
surrounded  by  the  attentions  of  an  obsequious  sta 
tion-master  and  a  liveried  young  man,  she  was  con 
scious  of  concealing  a  flutter  with  dignified  reserve. 

"  My  word,  Jane  !  "  she  exclaimed  after  they 
had  taken  their  seats  in  the  vehicle.  "  My  word, 
you  look  as  accustomed  to  it  as  if  you  had  been 
born  in  the  family." 

But  it  was  when,  after  she  had  been  introduced 
to  the  society  in  the  servants'  hall,  she  was  settled 
in  her  comfortable  room  next  to  Jane's  own  that 
she  realised  to  the  full  that  there  were  features  of 
her  position  which  marked  it  with  importance 
almost  startling.  As  Jane  talked  to  her,  the  heat 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  277 

of  the  genteel  bonnet  and  beaded  mantle  had  noth 
ing  whatever  to  do  with  the  warmth  which  moist 
ened  her  brow. 

"  I  thought  I  'd  keep  it  till  I  saw  you,  mother," 
said  the  girl  decorously.  "  I  know  what  her  lady 
ship  feels  about  being  talked  over.  If  I  was  a 
lady  myself,  I  should  n't  like  it.  And  I  know 
how  deep  you  '11  feel  it,  that  when  the  doctor  ad 
vised  her  to  get  an  experienced  married  person  to 
be  at  hand,  she  said  in  that  dear  way  of  hers, 
'Jane,  if  your  uncle  could  spare  your  mother,  how 
I  should  like  to  have  her.'  I  've  never  forgot  her 
kindness  in  Mortimer  Street.' ' 

Mrs.  Cupp  fanned  her  face  with  a  handkerchief 
of  notable  freshness. 

"  If  she  was  Her  Majesty,"  she  said,  "  she 
could  n't  be  more  sacred  to  me,  nor  me  more 
happy  to  be  allowed  the  privilege." 

Jane  had  begun  to  put  her  mother's  belongings 
away.  She  was  folding  and  patting  a  skirt  on  the 
bed.  She  fussed  about  a  little  nervously  and  then 
lifted  a  rather  embarrassed  face. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  are  here,  mother,"  she  said. 
"  I  'm  thankful  to  have  you  !  " 


278  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Mrs.  Cupp  ceased  fanning  and  stared  at  her  with 
a  change  of  expression.  She  found  herself  in 
voluntarily  asking  her  next  question  in  a  half 
whisper. 

"  Why,  Jane,  what  is  it  ?  " 

Jane  came  nearer. 

11 1  don't  know,"  she  answered,  and  her  voice 
also  was  low.  "  Perhaps  I  'm  silly  and  over 
anxious,  because  I  am  so  fond  of  her.  But  that 
Ameerah,  I  actually  dream  about  her." 

"  What  !     The  black  woman  ?  " 

"  If  I  was  to  say  a  word,  or  if  you  did,  and  we 
was  wrong,  how  should  we  feel  ?  I  've  kept  my 
nerves  to  myself  till  I  've  nearly  screamed  some 
times.  And  my  lady  would  be  so  hurt  if  she 
knew.  But  —  well,"  in  a  hurried  outburst,  "I 
do  wish  his  lordship  was  here,  and  I  do  wish  the 
Osborns  was  n't.  I  do  wish  it,  I  tell  you  that." 

"  Good  Lord  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Cupp,  and  after 
staring  with  alarmed  eyes  a  second  or  so,  she 
wiped  a  slight  dampness  from  her  upper  lip. 

She  was  of  the  order  of  female  likely  to  take  a 
somewhat  melodramatic  view  of  any  case  offering 
her  an  opening  in  that  direction. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  279 

"  Jane  !  "  she  gasped  faintly,  "  do  you  think 
they  'd  try  to  take  her  life  ?  " 

"  Goodness,  no  !  "  ejaculated  Jane,  with  even  a 
trifle  of  impatience.  "  People  like  them  dare  n't. 
But  suppose  they  was  to  try  to,  well,  to  upset  her 
in  some  way,  what  a  thing  for  them  it  would  be." 

After  which  the  two  women  talked  together  for 
some  time  in  whispers,  Jane  bringing  a  chair  to 
place  opposite  her  mother's.  They  sat  knee  to 
knee,  and  now  and  then  Jane  shed  a  tear  from  pure 
nervousness.  She  was  so  appalled  by  the  fear  of 
making  a  mistake  which,  being  revealed  by  some 
chance,  would  bring  confusion  upon  and  pain  of 
mind  to  her  lady. 

"  At  all  events,"  was  Mrs.  Cupp's  weighty  ob 
servation  when  their  conference  was  at  an  end, 
"  here  we  both  are,  and  two  pairs  of  eyes  and  ears 
and  hands  and  legs  is  a  fat  lot  better  than  one, 
where  there  's  things  to  be  looked  out  for." 

Her  training  in  the  matter  of  subtlety  had  not 
been  such  as  Ameerah's,  and  it  may  not  be  re 
garded  as  altogether  improbable  that  her  observa 
tion  of  the  Ayah  was  at  times  not  too  adroitly 
concealed,  but  if  the  native  woman  knew  that  she 


28o  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

was  being  remarked,  she  gave  no  sign  of  her  knowl 
edge.  She  performed  her  duties  faithfully  and 
silently,  she  gave  no  trouble,  and  showed  a  gentle 
subservience  and  humbleness  towards  the  white 
servants  which  won  immense  approbation.  Her 
manner  towards  Mrs.  Cupp's  self  was  marked 
indeed  by  something  like  a  tinge  of  awed  deference, 
which,  it  must  be  confessed,  mollified  the  good 
woman,  and  awakened  in  her  a  desire  to  be  just  and 
lenient  even  to  the  dark  of  skin  and  alien  of  birth. 

"  She  knows  her  betters  when  she  sees  them, 
and  has  pretty  enough  manners  for  a  black,"  the 
object  of  her  respectful  obeisances  remarked.  "  I 
wonder  if  she  's  ever  heard  of  her  Maker,  and  if  a 
little  brown  Testament  with  good  print  would  n't  be 
a  good  thing  to  give  her  ?  " 

This  boon  was,  in  fact,  bestowed  upon  her  as 
a  gift.  Mrs.  Cupp  bought  it  for  a  shilling  at  a 
small  shop  in  the  village.  Ameerah,  in  whose 
dusky  being  was  incorporated  the  occult  faith  of 
lost  centuries,  and  whose  gods  had  been  gods 
through  mystic  ages,  received  the  fat,  little  brown 
book  with  down-dropped  lids  and  grateful  obeis 
ance.  These  were  her  words  to  her  mistress : 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  281 

"  The  fat  old  woman  with  protruding  eyes  be 
stowed  it  upon  me.  She  says  it  is  the  book  of  her 
god.  She  has  but  one.  She  wishes  me  to  worship 
him.  Am  I  a  babe  to  worship  such  a  god  as 
would  please  her.  She  is  old,  and  has  lost  her 
mind." 

Lady  Walderhurst's  health  continued  all  that 
could  be  desired.  She  arose  smiling  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  bore  her  smile  about  with  her  all  day. 
She  walked  much  in  the  gardens,  and  spent  long, 
happy  hours  sewing  in  her  favourite  sitting-room. 
Work  which  she  might  have  paid  other  women  to 
do,  she  did  with  her  own  hands  for  the  mere  senti 
mental  bliss  of  it.  Sometimes  she  sat  with  Hester 
and  sewed,  and  Hester  lay  on  a  sofa  and  stared  at 
her  moving  hands. 

"You  know  how  to  do  it, don't  you  ?  "  she  once 
said. 

"  I  was  obliged  to  sew  for  myself  when  I  was  so 
poor,  and  this  is  delightful,"  was  Emily's  answer. 

"  But  you  could  buy  it  all  and  save  yourself  the 
trouble." 

Emily  stroked  her  bit  of  cambric  and  looked 
awkward. 


282  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  I  'd  rather  not,"  she  said. 

Well  as  she  was,  she  began  to  think  she  did  not 
sleep  quite  so  soundly  as  had  been  habitual  with 
her.  She  started  up  in  bed  now  and  again  as 
if  she  had  been  disturbed  by  some  noise,  but  when 
she  waited  and  listened  she  heard  nothing.  At 
least  this  happened  on  two  or  three  occasions.  And 
then  one  night,  having  been  lying  folded  in  pro 
found,  sweet  sleep,  she  sprang  up  in  the  black  dark 
ness,  wakened  by  an  actual,  physical  reality  of  sensa 
tion,  the  soft  laying  of  a  hand  upon  her  naked  side, 
—  that,  and  nothing  else. 

"  What  is  that  ?  Who  is  there  ?  "  she  cried. 
"  Someone  is  in  the  room  !  " 

Yes,  someone  was  there.  A  few  feet  from  her 
bed  she  heard  a  sobbing  sigh,  then  a  rustle,  then 
followed  silence.  She  struck  a  match  and,  getting 
up,  lighted  candles.  Her  hand  shook,  but  she 
remembered  that  she  must  be  firm  with  herself. 

"  I  must  not  be  nervous,"  she  said,  and  looked 
the  room  over  from  end  to  end. 

But  it  contained  no  living  creature,  nor  any  sign 
that  living  creature  had  entered  it  since  she  had 
lain  down  to  rest.  Gradually  the  fast  beating  of 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  283 

her  heart  had  slackened,  and  she  passed  her  hand 
over  her  face  in  bewilderment. 

"  It  was  n't  like  a  dream  at  all,"  she  murmured  ; 
"  it  really  was  n't.  I  felt  it." 

Still  as  absolutely  nothing  was  to  be  found,  the 
sense  of  reality  diminished  somewhat,  and  being 
so  healthy  a  creature,  she  regained  her  composure, 
and  on  going  back  to  bed  slept  well  until  Jane 
brought  her  early  tea. 

Under  the  influence  of  fresh  morning  air  and 
sunlight,  of  ordinary  breakfast  and  breakfast  talk 
with  the  Osborns,  her  first  convictions  receded  so 
far  that  she  laughed  a  little  as  she  related  the 
incident. 

"  I  never  had  such  a  real  dream  in  my  life,"  she 
said  ;  "  but  it  must  have  been  a  dream." 

"  One's  dreams  are  very  real  sometimes,"  said 
Hester. 

"  Perhaps  it  was  the  Palstrey  ghost,"  Osborn 
laughed.  "  It  came  to  you  because  you  ignore  it." 
He  broke  off  with  a  slight  sudden  start  and  stared 
at  her  a  second  questioningly.  "  Did  you  say  it 
put  its  hand  on  your  side  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Don't  tell   her  silly  things  that   will  frighten 


284  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

her.      How  ridiculous  of  you,"  exclaimed   Hester 

sharply.     "  It 's  not  proper." 

Emily  looked  at  both  of  them  wonderingly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  don't 
believe  in  ghosts.  It  won't  frighten  me,  Hester. 
I  never  even  heard  of  a  Palstrey  ghost." 

"  Then  I  am  not  going  to  tell  you  of  one," 
said  Captain  Osborn  a  little  brusquely,  and  he 
left  his  chair  and  went  to  the  sideboard  to  cut 
cold  beef. 

He  kept  his  back  towards  them,  and  his  shoul 
ders  looked  uncommunicative  and  slightly  obstinate. 
Hester's  face  was  sullen.  Emily  thought  it  sweet 
of  her  to  care  so  much,  and  turned  upon  her  with 
grateful  eyes. 

"  I  was  only  frightened  for  a  few  minutes, 
Hester,"  she  said.  "  My  dreams  are  not  vivid  at 
all,  usually." 

But  howsoever  bravely  she  ignored  the  shock  she 
had  received,  it  was  not  without  its  effect,  which 
was  that  occasionally  there  drifted  into  her  mind 
a  recollection  of  the  suggestion  that  Palstrey  had 
a  ghost.  She  had  never  heard  of  it,  and  was  in 
fact  of  an  orthodoxy  so  ingenuously  entire  as  to 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  285 

make  her  feel  that  belief  in  the  existence  of  such 
things  was  a  sort  of  defiance  of  ecclesiastical  laws. 
Still,  such  stories  were  often  told  in  connection 
with  old  places,  and  it  was  natural  to  wonder  what 
features  marked  this  particular  legend.  Did  it  lay 
hands  on  people's  sides  when  they  were  asleep  ? 
Captain  Osborn  had  asked  his  question  as  if  with 
a  sudden  sense  of  recognition.  But  she  would  not 
let  herself  think  of  the  matter,  and  she  would  not 
make  inquiries. 

The  result  was  that  she  did  not  sleep  well  for 
several  nights.  She  was  annoyed  at  herself,  be 
cause  she  found  that  she  kept  lying  awake  as  if 
listening  or  waiting.  And  it  was  not  a  good  thing 
to  lose  one's  sleep  when  one  wanted  particularly 
to  keep  strong. 

Jane  Cupp  during  this  week  was,  to  use  her 
own  words,  "  given  quite  a  turn  "  by  an  incident 
which,  though  a  small  matter,  might  have  proved 
untoward  in  its  results. 

The  house  at  Palstrey,  despite  its  age,  was  in  a 
wonderful  state  of  preservation,  the  carved  oak 
balustrades  of  the  stairways  being  considered  par 
ticularly  fine. 


286  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  What  but  Providence,"  said  Jane  piously,  in 
speaking  to  her  mother  the  next  morning,  "  made 
me  look  down  the  staircase  as  I  passed  through 
the  upper  landing  just  before  my  lady  was  going 
down  to  dinner.  What  but  Providence  I  couldn't 
say.  It  certainly  was  n't  because  I  've  done  it  be 
fore  that  I  remember.  But  just  that  one  evening 
I  was  obliged  to  cross  the  landing  for  something, 
and  my  eye  just  lowered  itself  by  accident,  and 
there  it  was  !  " 

"  Just  where  it  would  have  tripped  her  up. 
Good  Lord  !  it  makes  my  heart  turn  over  to  hear 
you  tell  it.  How  big  a  bit  of  carving  was  it  ?  " 
Mrs.  Cupp's  opulent  chest  trimmings  heaved. 

"  Only  a  small  piece  that  had  broken  off  from 
old  age  and  worm-eatenness,  I  suppose,  but  it  had 
dropped  just  where  she  would  n't  have  caught 
sight  of  it,  and  ten  to  one  would  have  stepped  on 
it  and  turned  her  ankle  and  been  thrown  from  the 
top  to  the  bottom  of  the  whole  flight.  Suppose  I 
hadn't  seen  it  in  time  to  pick  it  up  before  she 
went  down.  Oh,  dear  !  Oh,  dear  !  Mother  !  '* 

"  I  should  say  so !  "  Mrs.  Cupp's  manner  ap 
proached  the  devout. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  287 

This  incident  it  was  which  probably  added  to 
Jane's  nervous  sense  of  responsibility.  She  began 
to  watch  her  mistress's  movements  with  hyper 
sensitive  anxiety.  She  fell  into  the  habit  of  going 
over  her  bedroom  two  or  three  times  a  day,  giving 
a  sort  of  examination  to  its  contents. 

"  Perhaps  I  'm  so  fond  of  her  that  it 's  making 
me  downright  silly,"  she  said  to  her  mother;  "but 
it  seems  as  if  I  can't  help  it.  I  feel  as  if  I  'd  like 
to  know  everything  she  does,  and  go  over  the 
ground  to  make  sure  of  it  before  she  goes  any 
where.  I  'm  so  proud  of  her,  mother  ;  I  'm  just  as 
proud  as  if  I  was  some  connection  of  the  family, 
instead  of  just  her  maid.  It  '11  be  such  a  splendid 
thing  if  she  keeps  well  and  everything  goes  as  it 
should.  Even  people  like  us  can  see  what  it  means 
to  a  gentleman  that  can  go  back  nine  hundred  years. 
If  I  was  Lady  Maria  Bayne,  I  'd  be  here  and  never 
leave  her.  I  tell  you  nothing  could  drive  me  from 
her." 

"You  are  well  taken  care  of,"  Hester  had  said. 
"  That  girl  is  devoted  to  you.  In  her  lady's  maid's 
way  she  'd  fight  for  your  life." 

"  I  think  she  is  as  faithful  to  me  as  Ameerah  is 


288  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

to  you,"  Emily  answered.  "  I  feel  sure  Ameerah 
would  fight  for  you." 

Ameerah's  devotion  in  these  days  took  the  form 
of  a  deep-seated  hatred  of  the  woman  whom  she 
regarded  as  her  mistress's  enemy. 

"  It  is  an  evil  thing  that  she  should  take  this 
place,"  she  said.  "  She  is  an  old  woman.  What 
right  hath  she  to  think  she  may  bear  a  son.  Ill 
luck  will  come  of  it.  She  deserves  any  ill  fortune 
which  may  befall  her." 

"Sometimes,"  Lady  Walderhurst  once  said  to 
Osborn,  "  I  feel  as  if  Ameerah  disliked  me.  She 
looks  at  me  in  such  a  curious,  stealthy  way." 

"  She  is  admiring  you,"  was  his  answer.  "  She 
thinks  you  are  something  a  little  supernatural,  because 
you  are  so  tall  and  have  such  a  fresh  colour." 

There  was  in  the  park  at  Palstrey  Manor  a  large 
ornamental  pool  of  water,  deep  and  dark  and  beau 
tiful  because  of  the  age  and  hugeness  of  the  trees 
which  closed  around  it,  and  the  water  plants  which 
encircled  and  floated  upon  it.  White  and  yellow 
flags  and  brown  velvet  rushes  grew  thick  about  its 
edge,  and  water-lilies  opened  and  shut  upon  its  sur 
face.  An  avenue  of  wonderful  limes  led  down  to 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  289 

a  flight  of  mossy  steps,  by  which  in  times  gone  by 
people  had  descended  to  the  boat  which  rocked  idly 
in  the  soft  green  gloom.  There  was  an  island  on 
it,  on  which  roses  had  been  planted  and  left  to  run 
wild ;  early  in  the  year  daffodils  and  other  spring 
flowers  burst  up  through  the  grass  and  waved 
scented  heads.  Lady  Walderhurst  had  discovered 
the  place  during  her  honeymoon,  and  had  loved  it 
fondly  ever  since.  The  avenue  leading  to  it  was 
her  favourite  walk ;  a  certain  seat  under  a  tree  on 
the  island  her  favourite  resting-place. 

"  It  is  so  still  there,"  she  had  said  to  the 
Osborns.  "  No  one  ever  goes  there  but  myself. 
When  I  have  crossed  the  little  old  bridge  and  sit 
down  among  the  greenness  with  my  book  or  work, 
I  feel  as  if  there  was  no  world  at  all.  There  is  no 
sound  but  the  rustle  of  the  leaves  and  the  splash  of 
the  moor-hens  who  come  to  swim  about.  They 
don't  seem  to  be  afraid  of  me,  neither  do  the 
thrushes  and  robins.  They  know  I  shall  only  sit 
still  and  watch  them.  Sometimes  they  come  quite 
near." 

She  used,  in  fact,  to  take  her  letter-writing  and 
sewing  to  the  sweet,  secluded  place  and  spend  hours 


290  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

of  pure,  restful  bliss.     It  seemed  to  her  that  her  life 
became  more  lovely  day  by  day. 

Hester  did  not  like  the  pool.  She  thought  it  too 
lonely  and  silent.  She  preferred  her  beflowered 
boudoir  or  the  sunny  garden.  Sometimes  in  these 
days  she  feared  to  follow  her  own  thoughts.  She 
was  being  pushed  —  pushed  towards  the  edge  of  her 
precipice,  and  it  was  only  the  working  of  Nature 
that  she  should  lose  her  breath  and  snatch  at  strange 
things  to  stay  herself.  Between  herself  and  her 
husband  a  sort  of  silence  had  grown.  There  were 
subjects  of  which  they  never  spoke,  and  yet  each 
knew  that  the  other's  mind  was  given  up  to  thought 
of  them  day  and  night.  There  were  black  midnight 
hours  when  Hester,  lying  awake  in  her  bed,  knew 
that  Alec  lay  awake  in  his  also.  She  had  heard  him 
many  a  time  turn  over  with  a  caught  breath  and  a 
smothered  curse.  She  did  not  ask  herself  what  he 
was  thinking  of.  She  knew.  She  knew  because 
she  was  thinking  of  the  same  things  herself.  Of 
big,  fresh,  kind  Emily  Walderhurst  lost  in  her 
dreams  of  exultant  happiness  which  never  ceased  to 
be  amazed  and  grateful  to  prayerfulness ;  of  the 
broad  lands  and  great,  comfortable  houses ;  of  all  it 


Hester    O  shorn 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  291 

implied  to  be  the  Marquis  of  Walderhurst  or  his  son  ; 
of  the  long,  sickening  voyage  back  to  India  ;  of  the 
hopeless  muddle  of  life  in  an  ill-kept  bungalow  ;  of 
wretched  native  servants,  at  once  servile  and  stub 
born  and  given  to  lies  and  thefts.  More  than  once 
she  was  forced  to  turn  on  her  face  that  she  might 
smother  her  frenzied  sobs  in  her  pillow. 

It  was  on  such  a  night  —  she  had  awakened  from 
her  sleep  to  notice  such  stillness  in  Osborn's 
adjoining  room,  that  she  thought  him  profoundly 
asleep  —  that  she  arose  from  her  bed  to  go  and  sit 
at  her  open  window. 

She  had  not  been  seated  there  many  minutes 
before  she  became  singularly  conscious,  she  did  not 
know  how,  of  some  presence  near  her  among  the 
bushes  in  the  garden  below.  It  had  indeed  scarcely 
seemed  to  be  sound  or  movement  which  had  at 
tracted  her  attention,  and  yet  it  must  have  been 
one  or  both,  for  she  involuntarily  turned  to  a  par 
ticular  spot. 

Yes,  something,  someone,  was  standing  in  a 
corner,  hidden  by  shrubbery.  It  was  the  middle  of 
the  night,  and  people  were  meeting.  She  sat  still 
and  almost  breathless.  She  could  hear  nothing 


292  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

and  saw  nothing  but,  between  the  leafage,  a  dim 
gleam  of  white.  Only  Ameerah  wore  white. 
After  a  few  seconds'  waiting  she  began  to  think  a 
strange  thing,  though  she  presently  realised  that, 
taking  all  things  into  consideration,  it  was  not 
strange  at  all.  She  got  up  very  noiselessly  and 
stole  into  her  husband's  room.  He  was  not  there  ; 
the  bed  was  empty,  though  he  had  slept  there  ear 
lier  in  the  night. 

She  went  back  to  her  own  bed  and  got  into  it 
again.  In  ten  minutes'  time  Captain  Osborn  crept 
upstairs  and  returned  to  bed  also.  Hester  made  no 
sign  and  did  not  ask  any  questions.  She  knew  he 
would  have  told  her  nothing,  and  also  she  did  not 
wish  to  hear.  She  had  seen  him  speaking  to 
Ameerah  in  the  lane  a  few  days  before,  and  now 
that  he  was  meeting  her  in  the  night  she  knew 
that  she  need  not  ask  herself  what  the  subject  of 
their  consultation  might  be.  But  she  looked  hag 
gard  in  the  morning. 

Lady  Walderhurst  herself  did  not  look  well, 
For  the  last  two  or  three  nights  she  had  been  start 
ing  from  her  sleep  again  with  that  eerie  feeling  of 
being  wakened  by  someone  at  her  bedside,  though 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  293 

she  had  found  no  one  when  she  had  examined  the 
room  on  getting  up. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  am  afraid  I  am  getting  a 
little  nervous,"  she  had  said  to  Jane  Cupp.  "  I 
will  begin  to  take  valerian,  though  it  is  really  very 
nasty." 

Jane  herself  had  a  somewhat  harried  expression  of 
countenance.  She  did  not  mention  to  her  mistress 
that  for  some  days  she  had  been  faithfully  following 
a  line  of  conduct  she  had  begun  to  mark  out  for 
herself.  She  had  obtained  a  pair  of  list  slippers  and 
had  been  learning  to  go  about  softly.  She  had  sat 
up  late  and  risen  from  her  bed  early,  though  she  had 
not  been  rewarded  by  any  particularly  marked  dis 
coveries.  She  had  thought,  however,  that  she  ob 
served  that  Ameerah  did  not  look  at  her  as  much 
as  had  been  her  habit,  and  she  imagined  she  rather 
avoided  her.  All  she  said  to  Lady  Walderhurst 
was  : 

"  Yes,  my  lady,  mother  thinks  a  great  deal  of 
valerian  to  quiet  the  nerves.  Will  you  have  a 
light  left  in  your  room  to-night,  my  lady  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  I  could  not  sleep  with  a  light,"  her 
mistress  answered.  "I  am  not  used  to  one." 


294  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

She  continued  to  sleep,  disturbedly  some  nights,  in 
the  dark.  She  was  not  aware  that  on  some  of  the 
nights  Jane  Cupp  either  slept  or  laid  awake  in  the 
room  nearest  to  her.  Jane's  own  bedroom  was  in 
another  part  of  the  house,  but  in  her  quiet  goings 
about  in  the  list  shoes  she  now  and  then  saw  things 
which  made  her  nervously  determined  to  be  within 
immediate  call. 

"  I  don't  say  it  is  n't  nerves,  mother,"  she  said, 
"  and  that  I  ain't  silly  to  feel  so  suspicious  of  all 
sorts  of  little  things,  but  there 's  nights  when  I 
couldn't  stand  it  not  to  be  quite  near  her." 


Chapter 
fifteen 


HE  Lime  Avenue  was  a  dim, 
if  lovely,  place  at  twilight. 
When  the  sun  was  setting, 
broad  lances  of  gold  slanted 
through  the  branches  and 
glorified  the  green  spaces 
with  mellow  depths  of  light. 
But  later,  when  the  night  was  drawing  in,  the  lines 
of  grey  tree-trunks,  shadowed  and  canopied  by 
boughs,  suggested  to  the  mind  the  pillars  of  some 
ruined  cathedral,  desolate  and  ghostly. 

Jane  Cupp,  facing  the  gloom  of  it  during  her 
lady's  dinner-hour,  and  glancing  furtively  from 
side  to  side  as  she  went,  would  have  been  awed 
by  the  grey  stillness,  even  if  she  had  not  been  in  a 
timorous  mood  to  begin  with.  In  the  first  place,  the 


296  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Lime  Avenue,  which  was  her  ladyship's  own  special 
and  favourite  walk,  was  not  the  usual  promenade 
of  serving-maids.  Even  the  gardeners  seldom  set 
foot  in  it  unless  to  sweep  away  dead  leaves  and 
fallen  wood.  Jane  herself  had  never  been  here 
before.  This  evening  she  had  gone  absolutely 
because  she  was  following  Ameerah. 

She  was  following  Ameerah  because,  during  the 
afternoon  tea-hour  in  the  servants'  hall,  she  had 
caught  a  sentence  or  so  in  the  midst  of  a  gossiping 
story,  which  had  made  her  feel  that  she  should  be 
unhappy  if  she  did  not  go  down  the  walk  and  to 
the  water-side,  —  see  the  water,  the  boat,  the  steps, 
everything. 

"My  word,  mother!"  she  had  said,  "it's  a 
queer  business  for  a  respectable  girl  that 's  maid  in 
a  great  place  to  be  feeling  as  if  she  had  to  watch 
black  people,  same  as  if  she  was  in  the  police, 
and  not  daring  to  say  a  word ;  for  if  I  did  say  a 
word,  Captain  Osborn  's  clever  enough  to  have  me 
sent  away  from  here  in  a  jiffy.  And  the  worst  of 
it  is,"  twisting  her  hands  together,  "  there  may  n't 
be  anything  going  on  really.  If  they  were  as  inno 
cent  as  lambs  they  could  n't  act  any  different  j  and 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  297 

just    the    same,   things   might    have    happened    by 
accident." 

"That's  the  worst  of  it,"  was  Mrs.  Cupp's 
fretted  rejoinder.  "Any  old  piece  of  carving  might 
have  dropped  out  of  a  balustrade,  and  any  lady 
that  was  n't  well  might  have  nightmare  and  be 
disturbed  in  her  sleep." 

"  Yes,"  admitted  Jane,  anxiously,  "  that  is  the 
worst  of  it.  Sometimes  I  feel  so  foolish  I  'm  all 
upset  with  myself." 

The  gossip  in  servants'  halls  embraces  many 
topics.  In  country  houses  there  is  naturally  much 
to  be  said  of  village  incidents,  of  the  scandals  of 
cottages  and  the  tragedies  of  farms.  This  after 
noon,  at  one  end  of  the  table  the  talk  had  been  of 
a  cottage  scandal  which  had  verged  on  tragedy. 
A  handsome,  bouncing,  flaunting  village  girl  had 
got  into  that  "trouble  "  which  had  been  anticipated 
for  her  by  both  friends  and  enemies  for  some  time. 
Being  the  girl  she  was,  much  venomous  village 
social  stir  had  resulted.  It  had  been  predicted  that 
she  would  "  go  up  to  London,"  or  that  she  would 
drown  herself,  having  an  impudent  high  spirit 
which  brought  upon  her  much  scornful  and  derisive 


298  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

flouting  on  her  evil  day.  The  manor  servants 
knew  a  good  deal  of  her,  because  she  had  been 
for  a  while  a  servant  at  The  Kennel  Farm,  and 
had  had  a  great  fancy  for  Ameerah,  whom  it 
had  pleased  her  to  make  friends  with.  When  she 
fell  suddenly  ill,  and  for  days  lay  at  the  point  of 
death,  there  was  a  stealthy  general  opinion  that 
Ameerah,  with  her  love  spells  and  potions,  could 
have  said  much  which  might  have  been  enlighten 
ing,  if  she  had  chosen.  The  girl  had  been  in  ap 
palling  danger.  The  village  doctor,  who  had  been 
hastily  called  in,  had  at  one  moment  declared  that 
life  had  left  her  body.  It  was,  in  fact,  only  Ameerah 
who  had  insisted  that  she  was  not  dead.  After  a 
period  of  prostration,  during  which  she  seemed  a 
corpse,  she  had  slowly  come  back  to  earthly  exist 
ence.  The  graphic  descriptions  of  the  scenes  by  her 
bedside,  of  her  apparent  death,  her  cold  and  blood 
less  body,  her  lagging  and  ghastly  revival  to  con 
sciousness,  aroused  in  the  servants'  hall  a  fevered 
interest.  Ameerah  was  asked  questions,  and  gave 
such  answers  as  satisfied  herself  if  not  her  interlocu 
tors.  She  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  opinions  of  her 
fellow  servitors.  She  knew  all  about  them  while 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  299 

they  knew  nothing  whatsoever  about  her.  Her 
limited  English  could  be  used  as  a  means  of  baffling 
them.  She  smiled,  and  fell  into  Hindustani  when 
she  was  pressed. 

Jane  Cupp  heard  both  questions  and  answers. 
Ameerah  professed  to  know  nothing  but  such 
things  as  the  whole  village  knew.  Towards  the 

O  O 

end  of  the  discussion,  however,  in  a  mixture  of 
broken  English  and  Hindustani,  she  conveyed  that 
she  had  believed  that  the  girl  would  drown  herself. 
Asked  why,  she  shook  her  head,  then  said  that 
she  had  seen  her  by  the  Mem  Sahib's  lake  at 
the  end  of  the  trees.  She  had  asked  if  the  water 
was  deep  enough,  near  the  bridge,  to  drown. 
Ameerah  had  answered  that  she  did  not  know. 

There  was  a  general  exclamation.  They  all 
knew  it  was  deep  there.  The  women  shuddered 
as  they  remembered  how  deep  they  had  been  told 
it  was  at  that  particular  spot.  It  was  said  that 
there  was  no  bottom  to  it.  Everybody  rather 
revelled  in  the  gruesomeness  of  the  idea  of  a 
bottomless  piece  of  water.  Someone  remembered 
that  there  was  a  story  about  it.  As  much  as 
ninety  years  ago  two  young  labourers  on  the 


300  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

place  had  quarrelled  about  a  young  woman.  One 
day,  in  the  heat  of  jealous  rage  one  had  seized  the 
other  and  literally  thrown  him  into  the  pond.  He 
had  never  been  found.  No  drags  could  reach  his 
body.  He  had  sunk  into  the  blackness  for  ever. 

Ameerah  sat  at  the  table  with  downcast  eyes. 
She  had  a  habit  of  sitting  silent  with  dropped 
eyes,  which  Jane  could  not  bear.  As  she  drank 
her  tea  she  watched  her  in  spite  of  herself. 

After  a  few  minutes  had  passed,  her  appetite  for 
bread  and  butter  deserted  her.  She  got  up  and 
left  the  hall,  looking  pale. 

The  mental  phases  through  which  she  went 
during  the  afternoon  ended  in  her  determination 
to  go  down  the  avenue  and  to  the  water's  side 
this  evening.  It  could  be  done  while  her  lady 
ship  and  her  guests  were  at  dinner.  This  even 
ing  the  Vicar  and  his  wife  and  daughter  were 
dining  at  the  Manor. 

Jane  took  in  emotionally  all  the  mysterious  silence 
and  dimness  of  the  long  tree-pillared  aisle,  and  felt  a 
tremor  as  she  walked  down  it,  trying  to  hold  herself 
in  hand  by  practical  reflections  half  whispered. 

"  I  'm  just  going  to  have  a  look,  to  make  sure," 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  301 

she  said,  "  silly  or  not.  I  've  got  upset  through 
not  being  able  to  help  watching  that  woman,  and 
the  way  to  steady  my  nerves  is  to  make  sure  I  'm 
just  giving  in  to  foolishness." 

She  walked  as  fast  as  she  could  towards  the 
water.  She  could  see  its  gleam  in  the  dim  light, 
but  she  must  pass  a  certain  tree  before  she  could 
see  the  little  bridge  itself. 

"  My  goodness  !  What 's  that  ?  "  she  said 
suddenly.  It  was  something  white,  which  rose  up 
as  if  from  the  ground,  as  if  from  the  rushes 
growing  at  the  water's  edge. 

Just  a  second  Jane  stood,  and  choked,  and  then 
suddenly  darted  forward,  running  as  fast  as  she 
could.  The  white  figure  merely  moved  slowly 
away  among  the  trees.  It  did  not  run  or  seem 
startled,  and  as  Jane  ran  she  caught  it  by  its  white 
drapery,  and  found  herself,  as  she  had  known  she 
would,  dragging  at  the  garments  of  Ameerah. 
But  Ameerah  only  turned  round  and  greeted  her 
with  a  welcoming  smile,  mild  enough  to  damp 
any  excitement. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  Jane  demanded. 
"  Why  do  you  come  to  this  place  ? " 


302  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Ameerah  answered  her  with  simple  fluency  in 
Hindustani,  with  her  manner  of  not  realising  that 
she  was  speaking  to  a  foreigner  who  could  not 
understand  her.  What  she  explained  was  that, 
having  heard  that  Jane's  Mem  Sahib  came  here 
to  meditate  on  account  of  the  stillness,  she  her 
self  had  formed  the  habit  of  coming  to  indulge 
in  prayer  and  meditation  when  the  place  was 
deserted  for  the  day.  She  commended  the  place 
to  Jane,  and  to  Jane's  mother,  whom  she  believed 
to  be  holy  persons  given  to  devotional  exercises. 
Jane  shook  her. 

"  I  don't  understand  a  word  you  say,"  she  cried. 
"  You  know  I  don't.  Speak  in  English." 

Ameerah  shook  her  head  slowly,  and  smiled 
again  with  patience.  She  endeavoured  to  explain 
in  English  which  Jane  was  sure  was  worse  than 
she  had  ever  heard  her  use  before.  Was  it  for 
bidden  that  a  servant  should  come  to  the  water  ? 

She  was  far  too  much  for  Jane,  who  was  so 
unnerved  that  she  burst  into  tears. 

"You  are  up  to  some  wickedness,"  she  sobbed; 
"  I  know  you  are.  You  're  past  bearing.  I  'm 
going  to  write  to  people  that 's  got  the  right 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  303 

to  do  what  I  dare  n't.  I  'm  going  back  to  that 
bridge." 

Ameerah  looked  at  her  with  a  puzzled  amiabil 
ity  for  a  few  seconds.  She  entered  into  further 
apologies  and  explanations  in  Hindustani.  In  the 
midst  of  them  her  narrow  eyes  faintly  gleamed, 
and  she  raised  a  hand. 

"  They  come  to  us.  It  is  your  Mem  Sahib 
and  her  people.  Hear  them." 

She  spoke  truly.  Jane  had  miscalculated  as  to 
her  hour,  or  the  time  spent  at  the  dinner-table  had 
been  shorter  than  usual.  In  fact,  Lady  Walder- 
hurst  had  brought  her  guests  to  see  the  young 
moon  peer  through  the  lime-trees,  as  she  some 
times  did  when  the  evening  was  warm. 

Jane  Cupp  fled  precipitately.  Ameerah  dis 
appeared  also,  but  without  precipitation  or  any 
sign  of  embarrassment. 

"  You  look  as  if  you  had  not  slept  well,  Jane," 
Lady  Walderhurst  remarked  in  the  morning  as  her 
hair  was  being  brushed.  She  had  glanced  into  the 
glass  and  saw  that  it  reflected  a  pale  face  above  her 
own,  and  that  the  pale  face  had  red  rims  to  its  eyes. 


304  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"I  have  been  a  bit  troubled  by  a  headache,  my 
lady,"  Jane  answered. 

"  I  have  something  like  a  headache  myself." 
Lady  Walderhurst's  voice  had  not  its  usual  cheer 
ful  ring.  Her  own  eyes  looked  heavy.  "  I  did 
not  rest  well.  I  have  not  rested  well  for  a  week. 
That  habit  of  starting  from  my  sleep  feeling  that 
some  sound  has  disturbed  me  is  growing  on  me. 
Last  night  I  dreamed  again  that  someone  touched 
my  side.  I  think  I  shall  be  obliged  to  send  for 
Sir  Samuel  Brent." 

"  My  lady,"  exclaimed  Jane  feverishly,  "  if  you 
would  —  if  you  would." 

Lady  Walderhurst's  look  at  her  was  nervous 
and  disturbed. 

"  Do  you  —  does  your  mother  think  I  am  not 
as  well  as  I  should  be,  Jane  ?  "  she  said. 

Jane's  hands  were  actually  trembling. 

"  Oh  no,  my  lady.  Oh  no  !  But  if  Sir  Samuel 
could  be  sent  for,  or  Lady  Maria  Bayne,  or — or 
his  lordship  —  " 

The  disturbed  expression  of  Lady  Walderhurst's 
face  changed  to  something  verging  on  alarm.  It 
was  true  that  she  began  to  be  horribly  frightened. 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  305 

She  turned  upon  Jane,  pallor  creeping  over  her 
skin. 

"  Oh  !  "  she  cried,  a  sound  of  almost  child-like 
fear  and  entreaty  in  her  voice.  "  I  am  sure  you 
think  I  am  ill,  I  am  sure  you  do.  What  — 
what  is  it  ?  " 

She  leaned  forward  suddenly  and  rested  her  fore 
head  on  her  hands,  her  elbows  supported  by  the 
dressing-table.  She  was  overcome  by  a  shock  of 
dread. 

"  Oh  !  if  anything  should  go  wrong  !  "  in  a  faint 
half  wail ;  "  if  anything  could  happen  !  "  She 
could  not  bear  the  mere  thought.  It  would  break 
her  heart.  She  had  been  so  happy.  God  had 
been  so  good. 

Jane  was  inwardly  convulsed  with  contrition 
commingled  with  anger  at  her  own  blundering 
folly.  Now  it  was  she  herself  who  had  "  upset  " 
her  ladyship,  given  her  a  fright  that  made  her  pale 
and  trembling.  What  did  she  not  deserve  for 
being  such  a  thoughtless  fool.  She  might  have 
known.  She  poured  forth  respectfully  affectionate 
protestations. 

"  Indeed,  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  lady.     Indeed, 


306  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

it 's  only  my  silliness  !  Mother  was  saying  yester 
day  that  she  had  never  seen  a  lady  so  well  and  in 
as  good  spirits.  I  have  no  right  to  be  here  if  I 
make  such  mistakes.  Please,  my  lady  —  oh  !  might 
mother  be  allowed  to  step  in  a  minute  to  speak  to 
you  ?  " 

Emily's  colour  came  back  gradually.  When 
Jane  went  to  her  mother,  Mrs.  Cupp  almost  boxed 
her  ears. 

"That's  just  the  way  with  girls,"  she  said. 
"No  more  sense  than  a  pack  of  cats.  If  you  can't 
keep  quiet  you  'd  better  just  give  up.  Of  course 
she  'd  think  you  meant  they  was  to  be  sent  for 
because  we  was  certain  she  was  a  dying  woman. 
Oh  my  !  Jane  Cupp,  get  away !  " 

She  enjoyed  her  little  interview  with  Lady 
Walderhurst  greatly.  A  woman  whose  opinion 
was  of  value  at  such  a  time  had  the  soundest 
reasons  for  enjoying  herself.  When  she  returned 
to  her  room,  she  sat  and  fanned  herself  with  a 
pocket  handkerchief  and  dealt  judicially  with  Jane. 

"  What  we  Ve  got  to  do,"  she  said,  "  is  to  think, 
and  think  we  will.  Tell  her  things  outright  we 
must  not,  until  we  've  got  something  sure  and 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  307 

proved.  Then  we  can  call  on  them  that 's  got  the 
power  in  their  hands.  We  can't  call  on  them  till 
we  can  show  them  a  thing  no  one  can't  deny.  As 
to  that  bridge,  it 's  old  enough  to  be  easy  managed, 
and  look  accidental  if  it  broke.  You  say  she 
ain't  going  there  to-day.  Well,  this  very  night,  as 
soon  as  it 's  dark  enough,  you  and  me  will  go 
down  and  have  a  look  at  it.  And  what 's  more, 
we  '11  take  a  man  with  us.  Judd  could  be  trusted. 
Worst  comes  to  worst,  we  're  only  taking  the  lib 
erty  of  making  sure  it 's  safe,  because  we  know 
it  is  old  and  we  're  over  careful." 

As  Jane  had  gathered  from  her,  by  careful  and 
apparently  incidental  inquiry,  Emily  had  had  no 
intention  of  visiting  her  retreat.  In  the  morning 
she  had,  in  fact,  not  felt  quite  well  enough.  Her 
nightmare  had  shaken  her  far  more  on  its  second 

O 

occurring.  The  stealthy  hand  had  seemed  not 
merely  to  touch,  but  to  grip  at  her  side,  and  she 
had  been  physically  unable  to  rise  for  some  minutes 
after  her  awakening.  This  experience  had  its 
physical  and  mental  effects  on  her. 

She  did  not  see  Hester  until  luncheon,  and  after 
luncheon  she  found  her  to  be  in  one  of  her  strange 


308  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

humours.  She  was  often  in  these  strange  humours 
at  this  time.  She  wore  a  nervous  and  strained 
look,  and  frequently  seemed  to  have  been  crying. 
She  had  new  lines  on  her  forehead  between  the 
eyebrows.  Emily  had  tried  in  vain  to  rouse  and 
cheer  her  with  sympathetic  feminine  talk.  There 
were  days  when  she  felt  that  for  some  reason 
Hester  did  not  care  to  see  her. 

She  felt  it  this  afternoon,  and  not  being  herself 
at  the  high-water  mark  of  cheerfulness,  she  was 
conscious  of  a  certain  degree  of  discouragement. 
She  had  liked  her  so  much,  she  had  wanted  to  be 
friends  with  her  and  to  make  her  life  an  easier 
thing,  and  yet  she  appeared  somehow  to  have 
failed.  It  was  because  she  was  so  far  from  being 
a  clever  woman.  Perhaps  she  might  fail  in  other 
things  because  she  was  not  clever.  Perhaps  she 
was  never  able  to  give  to  people  what  they  wanted, 
what  they  needed.  A  brilliant  woman  had  such 
power  to  gain  and  hold  love. 

After  an  hour  or  so  spent  in  trying  to  raise  the 
mental  temperature  of  Mrs.  Osborn's  beflowered 
boudoir,  she  rose  and  picked  up  her  little  work- 
basket. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  309 

"  Perhaps  you  would  take  a  nap  if  I  left  you," 

she   said.     "  I   think   I    will   stroll    d^own    to    the 

lake." 

She  quietly  stole  away,  leaving   Hester   on  her 

cushions. 


FEW  minutes  later  a  knock 
at  the  door  being  replied  to  by 
Hester's  curt  "  Come  in  !  " 
produced  the  modest  entry  of 
Jane  Cupp,  who  had  come  to 
make  a  necessary  inquiry  of 
her  mistress. 

41  Her  ladyship  is  not  here ;   she  has  gone  out." 

Jane  made  an  altogether  involuntary  step  for 
ward.  Her  face  became  the  colour  of  her  clean 
white  apron. 

"  Out  !  "  she  gasped. 

Hester  turned  sharply  round. 

"To  the  lake,"  she  said.  "What  do  you  mean 
by  staring  in  that  way  ?  " 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  311 

Jane  did  not  tell  her  what  she  meant.  She  in 
continently  ran  from  the  room  without  any  shadow 
of  a  pretence  at  a  lady's  maid's  decorum. 

She  fled  through  the  rooms,  to  make  a  short  cut 

D 

to  the  door  opening  on  to  the  gardens.  Through 
that  she  darted,  and  flew  across  paths  and  flower 
beds  towards  the  avenue  of  limes. 

u  She  shan't  get  to  the  bridge  before  me,"  she 
panted.  "  She  shan't,  she  shan't.  I  won't  let 
her.  Oh,  if  my  breath  will  only  hold  out  !  " 

She  did  not  reflect  that  gardeners  would  natu 
rally  think  she  had  gone  mad.  She  thought  of 
nothing  whatever  but  the  look  in  Ameerah's  down 
cast  eyes  when  the  servants  had  talked  of  the  bot 
tomless  water,  —  the  eerie,  satisfied,  sly  look.  Of 
that,  and  of  the  rising  of  the  white  figure  from  the 
ground  last  night  she  thought,  and  she  clutched 

«—  O  O         * 

her   neat  side  as  she  ran. 

The  Lime  Avenue  seemed  a  mile  long,  and  yet 
when  she  was  running  down  it  she  saw  Ladv 

^  - 

Walderhurst  walking  slowly  under  the  trees  carry 
ing  her  touching  little  basket  of  sewing  in  her 
hand.  She  was  close  to  the  bridge. 

"  My  lady  !  my  lady  !  "  she  gasped  out  as  soon 


3i2  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

as  she  dare.     She  could  not  run  screaming  all  the 

way.     "  Oh,  my  lady  !   if  you  please  !  " 

Emily  heard  her  and  turned  round.  Never  had 
she  been  much  more  amazed  in  her  life.  Her 
maid,  her  well-bred  Jane  Cupp,  who  had  not 
drawn  an  indecorous  breath  since  assuming  her 
duties,  was  running  after  her  calling  out  to  her, 
waving  her  hands,  her  face  distorted,  her  voice 
hysteric. 

Emily  had  been  just  on  the  point  of  stepping 
on  to  the  bridge,  her  hand  had  been  outstretched 
towards  the  rail.  She  drew  back  a  step  in 
alarm  and  stood  staring.  How  strange  everything 
seemed  to-day.  She  began  to  feel  choked  and 
trembling. 

A  few  seconds  and  Jane  was  upon  her,  clutch 
ing  at  her  dress.  She  had  so  lost  her  breath  that 
she  was  almost  speechless. 

"  My  lady,"  she  panted.  "  Don't  set  foot  on 
it ;  don't  —  don't,  till  we  're  sure." 

"On  — on  what?" 

Then  Jane  realised  how  mad  she  looked,  how 
insane  the  whole  scene  was,  and  she  gave  way  to 
her  emotions.  Partly  through  physical  exhaustion 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  313 

and  breathlessness,  and  partly  through  helpless 
terror,  she  fell  on  her  knees-. 

"  The  bridge  !  "  she  said.  "  1  don't  care  what 
happens  to  me  so  that  no  harm  comes  to  you. 
There  's  things  being  plotted  and  planned  that 
looks  like  accidents.  The  bridge  would  look  like 
an  accident  if  part  of  it  broke.  There  's  no  bot 
tom  to  the  water.  They  were  saying  so  yester 
day,  and  she  sat  listening.  I  found  her  here  last 
night." 

"  She  !  Her  !  "  Emily  felt  as  if  she  was  pass 
ing  through  another  nightmare. 

"  Ameerah,"  wailed  poor  Jane.  "  White  ones 
have  no  chance  against  black.  Oh,  my  lady  !  " 
her  sense  of  the  possibility  that  she  might  be 
making  a  fool  of  herself  after  all  was  nearly  killing 
her.  "  I  believe  she  would  drive  you  to  your 
death  if  she  could  do  it,  think  what  you  will 
of  me." 

The  little  basket  of  needlework  shook  in  Lady 
Walderhurst's  hand.  She  swallowed  hard,  and 
without  warning  sat  down  on  the  roots  of  a  fallen 
tree,  her  cheeks  blanching  slowly. 

"  Oh    Jane ! "    she    said    in    simple    woe    and 


314  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

bewilderment.     "  I    don't    understand    any    of   it. 
How  could  —  how  could  they  want  to  hurt  me  !  " 

Her  innocence  was  so  fatuous  that  she  thought 
that  because  she  had  been  kind  to  them  they  could 
not  hate  or  wish  to  injure  her. 

But  something  for  the  first  time  made  her  begin 
to  quail.  She  sat,  and  tried  to  recover  herself. 
She  put  out  a  shaking  hand  to  the  basket  of  sew 
ing.  She  could  scarcely  see  it,  because  suddenly 
tears  had  filled  her  eyes. 

"  Bring  one  of  the  men  here,"  she  said,  after 
a  few  moments.  "Tell  him  that  I  am  a  little 
uncertain  about  the  safety  of  the  bridge." 

She  sat  quite  still  while  Jane  was  absent  in 
search  of  the  man.  She  held  her  basket  on  her 
knee,  her  hand  resting  on  it.  Her  kindly,  slow- 
working  mind  was  wakening  to  strange  thoughts. 
To  her  they  seemed  inhuman  and  uncanny.  Was 
it  because  good,  faithful,  ignorant  Jane  had  been 
rather  nervous  about  Ameerah  that  she  herself  had 
of  late  got  into  a  habit  of  feeling  as  if  the  Ayah 
was  watching  and  following  her.  She  had  been 
startled  more  than  once  by  finding  her  near  when 
she  had  not  been  aware  of  her  presence.  She 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  315 

had,  of  course,  heard  Hester  say  that  native 
servants  often  startled  one  by  their  silent,  stealthy- 
seeming  ways.  But  the  woman's  eyes  had  fright 
ened  her.  And  she  had  heard  the  story  about  the 
village  girl. 

She  sat,  and  thought,  and  thought.  Her  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  the  moss-covered  ground,  and 
her  breath  came  quickly  and  irregularly  several 
times. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  do,"  she  said.  "  I  am 
sure  — if  it  is  true  —  I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

The  under-gardener's  heavy  step  and  Jane's 
lighter  one  roused  her.  She  lifted  her  eyes  to 
watch  the  pair  as  they  came.  He  was  a  big, 
young  man  with  a  simple  rustic  face  and  big 
shoulders  and  hands. 

"  The  bridge  is  so  slight  and  old,"  she  said  to 
him,  "  that  it  has  just  occurred  to  me  that  it  might 
not  be  quite  safe.  Examine  it  carefully  to  make 
sure." 

The  young  man  touched  his  forehead  and  began 
to  look  the  supports  over.  Jane  watched  him 
with  bated  breath  when  he  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  They  're  all  right  on  this  side,  my  lady,"  he 


316  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

said.     "  I  shall  have  to  get  in  the  boat  to  make 

sure  of  them  that  rest  on  the  island." 

He  stamped  upon  the  end  nearest  and  it  re 
mained  firm. 

"  Look  at  the  railing  well,"  said  Lady  Walder- 
hurst.  "  I  often  stand  and  lean  on  it  and  —  and 
watch  the  sunset." 

She  faltered  at  this  point,  because  she  had  sud 
denly  remembered  that  this  was  a  habit  of  hers, 
and  that  she  had  often  spoken  of  it  to  the  Osborns. 
There  was  a  point  on  the  bridge  at  which,  through 
a  gap  in  the  trees,  a  beautiful  sunset  was  always 
particularly  beautiful.  It  was  the  right-hand  rail 
facing  these  special  trees  she  rested  on  when  she 
watched  the  evening  sky. 

The  big,  young  gardener  looked  at  the  left-hand 
rail  and  shook  it  with  his  strong  hands. 

"  That  's  safe  enough,"  he  said  to  Jane. 

"  Try  the  other,"  said  Jane. 

He  tried  the  other.  Something  had  happened 
to  it.  It  broke  in  his  big  grasp.  His  sunburnt 
skin  changed  colour  by  at  least  three  shades. 

"  Lord  A'mighty  !  "  Jane  heard  him  gasp  under 
his  breath.  He  touched  his  cap  and  looked  blankly 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  317 

at  Lady  Walderhurst.  Jane's  heart  seemed  to 
herself  to  roll  over.  She  scarcely  dared  look  at 
her  mistress,  but  when  she  took  courage  to  do  so, 
she  found  her  so  white  that  she  hurried  to  her 
side. 

"  Thank  you,  Jane,"  she  said  rather  faintly. 
"  The  sky  is  so  lovely  this  afternoon  that  I 
meant  to  stop  and  look  at  it.  I  should  have 
fallen  into  the  water,  which  they  say  has  no 
bottom.  No  one  would  have  seen  or  heard  me 
if  you  had  not  come." 

She  caught  Jane's  hand  and  held  it  hard.  Her 
eyes  wandered  over  the  avenue  of  big  trees,  which 
no  one  but  herself  came  near  at  this  hour.  It 
would  have  been  so  lonely,  so  lonely ! 

The  gardener  went  away,  still  looking  less  ruddy 
than  he  had  looked  when  he  arrived  on  the  spot. 
Lady  Walderhurst  rose  from  her  seat  on  the  mossy 
tree-trunk.  She  rose  quite  slowly. 

"  Don't  speak  to  me  yet,  Jane,"  she  said.  And 
with  Jane  following  her  at  a  respectful  distance, 
she  returned  to  the  house  and  went  to  her  room  to 
lie  down. 

There   was   nothing   to    prove    that    the   whole 


318  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

thing  was  not  mere  chance,  mere  chance.  It 
was  this  which  turned  her  cold.  It  was  all  im 
possible.  The  little  bridge  had  been  entirely  un 
used  for  so  long  a  time,  it  had  been  so  slight  a 
structure  from  the  first ;  it  was  old,  and  she 
remembered  now  that  Walderhurst  had  once  said 
that  it  must  be  examined  and  strengthened  if  it 
was  to  be  used.  She  had  leaned  upon  the  rail 
often  lately  ;  one  evening  she  had  wondered  if  it 
seemed  quite  as  steady  as  usual.  What  could  she 
say,  whom  could  she  accuse,  because  a  piece  of 
rotten  wood  had  given  away. 

She  started  on  her  pillow.  It  was  a  piece  of 
rotten  wood  which  had  fallen  from  the  balustrade 
upon  the  stairs,  to  be  seen  and  picked  up  by  Jane 
just  before  she  would  have  passed  down  on  her 
way  to  dinner.  And  yet,  what  would  she  appear 
to  her  husband,  to  Lady  Maria,  to  anyone  in  the 
decorous  world,  if  she  told  them  that  she  believed 
that  in  a  dignified  English  household,  an  English 
gentleman,  even  a  deposed  heir  presumptive,  was 
working  out  a  subtle  plot  against  her  such  as  might 
adorn  a  melodrama  ?  She  held  her  head  in  her 
hands  as  her  mind  depicted  to  her  Lord  Walder- 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  319 

hurst's  countenance,  Lady  Maria's  dubious,  amused 
smile. 

"  She  would  think  I  was  hysterical,"  she  cried, 
under  her  breath.  "He  would  think  I  was  vulgar 
and  stupid,  that  I  was  a  fussy  woman  with  foolish 
ideas,  which  made  him  ridiculous.  Captain  Os- 
born  is  of  his  family.  I  should  be  accusing  him 
of  being  a  criminal.  And  yet  I  might  have  been 
in  the  bottomless  pond,  in  the  bottomless  pond, 
and  no  one  would  have  known." 

If  it  all  had  not  seemed  so  incredible  to  her,  if 
she  could  have  felt  certain  herself,  she  would  not 
have  been  overwhelmed  with  this  sense  of  being 
baffled,  bewildered,  lost. 

The  Ayah  who  so  loved  Hester  might  hate  her 
rival.  A  jealous  native  woman  might  be  capable 
of  playing  stealthy  tricks,  which,  to  her  strange 
mind,  might  seem  to  serve  a  proper  end.  Cap 
tain  Osborn  might  not  know.  She  breathed 
again  as  this  thought  came  to  her.  He  could  not 
know ;  it  would  be  too  insane,  too  dangerous,  too 
wicked. 

And  yet,  if  she  had  been  flung  headlong  down 
the  staircase,  if  the  fall  had  killed  her,  where 


320  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

would  have  been  the  danger  for  the  man  who 
would  only  have  deplored  a  fatal  accident.  If 
she  had  leaned  upon  the  rail  and  fallen  into  the 
black  depths  of  water  below,  what  could  have  been 
blamed  but  a  piece  of  rotten  wood.  She  touched 
her  forehead  with  her  handkerchief  because  it  felt 
cold  and  damp.  There  was  no  way  out.  Her 
teeth  chattered. 

"  They  may  be  as  innocent  as  I  am.  And  they 
may  be  murderers  in  their  hearts.  I  can  prove 
nothing,  I  can  prevent  nothing.  "Oh!  do  come 
home." 

There  was  but  one  thought  which  remained 
clear  in  her  mind.  She  must  keep  herself  safe  — 
she  must  keep  herself  safe.  In  the  anguish  of  her 
trouble  she  confessed,  by  putting  it  into  words,  a 
thing  which  she  had  not  confessed  before,  and  even 
as  she  spoke  she  did  not  realise  that  her  words 
contained  confession. 

"  If  I  were  to  die  now,"  she  said  with  a  touch 
ing  gravity,  "  he  would  care  very  much." 

A  few  moments  later  she  said,  "  It  does  not 
matter  what  happens  to  me,  how  ridiculous  or 
vulgar  or  foolish  I  seem,  if  I  can  keep  myself  safe 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  321 

—  until  after.      I  will  write  to  him  now  and  ask 
him  to  try  to  come  back." 

It  was  the  letter  she  wrote  after  this  decision 
which  Osborn  saw  among  others  awaiting  postal, 
and  which  he  stopped  to  examine. 


ESTER  sat  at  the  open  window 
of  her  boudoir  in  the  dark. 
She  had  herself  put  out  the 
wax  candles,  because  she 
wanted  to  feel  herself  sur 
rounded  by  the  soft  blackness. 
She  had  sat  through  the  dinner  and  heard  her 
husband's  anxious  inquiries  about  the  rotten  hand 
rail,  and  had  watched  his  disturbed  face  and  Emily's 
pale  one.  She  herself  had  said  but  little,  and  had 
been  glad  when  the  time  came  that  she  could 
decently  excuse  herself  and  come  away. 

As  she  sat  in  the  darkness    and   felt   the   night 
breath  of  the  flowers  in  the  garden,  she  was  think- 

D  * 

ing   of  all  the  murderers   she  had   ever   heard   of. 
She   was   reflecting  that  some  of  them   had   been 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  323 

quite  respectable  people,  and  that  all  of  them  must 
have  lived  through  a  period  in  which  they  gradually 
changed  from  respectable  people  to  persons  in 
whose  brains  a  thought  had  worked  which  once 
they  would  have  believed  impossible  to  them,  which 
they  might  have  scouted  the  idea  of  their  giving 
room  to.  She  was  sure  the  change  must  come 
about  slowly.  At  first  it  would  seem  too  mad  and 
ridiculous,  a  sort  of  angry  joke.  Then  the  angry 
joke  would  return  again  and  again,  until  at  last 
they  let  it  stay  and  did  not  laugh  at  it,  but  thought 
it  over.  Such  things  always  happened  because 
some  one  wanted,  or  did  not  want,  something 
very  much,  something  it  drove  them  mad  to  think 
of  being  forced  to  live  without,  or  with.  Men 
who  hated  a  woman  and  could  not  rid  themselves 
of  her,  who  hated  the  sight  of  her  face,  her  eyes, 
her  hair,  the  sound  of  her  voice  and  step,  and  were 
rendered  insane  by  her  nearness  and  the  thought 
that  they  never  could  be  free  from  any  of  these 
things,  had  before  now,  commonplace  or  compara 
tively  agreeable  men,  by  degrees  reached  the  point 
where  a  knife  or  a  shot  or  a  heavy  blow  seemed 
not  only  possible  but  inevitable.  People  who  had 


324  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

been  ill-treated,  people  who  had  faced  horrors 
through  want  and  desire,  had  reached  the  moment 
in  which  they  took  by  force  what  Fate  would  not 
grant  them.  Her  brain  so  whirled  that  she  won 
dered  if  she  was  not  a  little  delirious  as  she  sat  in 
the  stillness  thinking  such  strange  things. 

For  weeks  she  had  been  living  under  a  strain  so 
intense  that  her  feelings  had  seemed  to  cease  to 
have  any  connection  with  what  was  normal. 

She  had  known  too  much ;  and  yet  she  had 
been  certain  of  nothing  at  all. 

But  she  and  Alec  were  like  the  people  who 
began  with  a  bad  joke,  and  then  were  driven  and 
driven.  It  was  impossible  not  to  think  of  what 
might  come,  and  of  what  might  be  lost  for  ever. 
If  the  rail  had  not  been  tried  this  afternoon,  if  big, 
foolish  Emily  Walderhurst  had  been  lying  peace 
fully  among  the  weeds  to-night  ! 

"  The  end  comes  to  everyone,"  she  said.  "  It 
would  have  been  all  over  in  a  few  minutes.  They 
say  it  isn't  really  painful." 

Her  lips  quivered,  and  she  pressed  her  hands 
tightly  between  her  knees. 

"  That 's  a  murderer's  thought,"  she  muttered 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  325 

querulously.  "  And  yet  I  was  n't  a  bad  girl  to 
begin  with." 

She  began  to  see  things.  The  chief  thing  was 
a  sort  of  vision  of  how  Emily  would  have  looked 
lying  in  the  depths  of  the  water  among  the  weeds. 
Her  brown  hair  would  have  broken  loose,  and  per 
haps  tangled  itself  over  her  white  face.  Would  her 
eyes  be  open  and  glazed,  or  half  shut  ?  And  her 
childish  smile,  the  smile  that  looked  so  odd  on  the 
face  of  a  full-grown  woman,  would  it  have  been 
fixed  and  seemed  to  confront  the  world  of  life  with 
a  meek  question  as  to  what  she  had  done  to  people 
—  why  she  had  been  drowned  ?  Hester  felt  sure 
that  was  what  her  helpless  stillness  would  have 
expressed. 

How  happy  the  woman  had  been  !  To  see  her 
go  about  with  her  unconsciously  joyous  eyes  had 
sometimes  been  maddening.  And  yet,  poor  thing  ! 
why  had  she  not  the  right  to  be  happy  ?  She  was 
always  trying  to  please  people  and  help  them.  She 
was  so  good  that  she  was  almost  silly.  The  day 
she  had  brought  the  little  things  from  London  to 
The  Kennel  Farm,  Hester  remembered  that,  despite 
her  own  morbid  resentment,  she  had  ended  by  kiss- 


326  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

ing  her  with  repentant  tears;  She  heard  again,  in 
the  midst  of  her  delirious  thoughts,  the  nice,  pro 
saic  emotion  of  her  voice  as  she  said  : 

"  Don't  thank  me  —  don't.  Just  let  us  enjoy 
ourselves." 

And  she  might  have  been  lying  among  the  long, 
thick  weeds  of  the  pond.  And  it  would  not  have 
been  the  accident  it  would  have  appeared  to  be. 
Of  that  she  felt  sure.  Brought  face  to  face 
with  this  definiteness  of  situation,  she  began  to 
shudder. 

She  went  out  into  the  night  feeling  that  she 
wanted  air.  She  was  not  strong  enough  to  stand 
the  realisation  that  she  had  become  part  of  a  web 
into  which  she  had  not  meant  to  be  knittedo 
No;  she  had  had  her  passionate  and  desperate 
moments,  but  she  had  not  meant  things  like  this. 
She  had  almost  hoped  that  disaster  might  befall, 
she  had  almost  thought  it  possible  that  she  would 
do  nothing  to  prevent  it  —  almost.  But  some 
things  were  too  bad. 

She  felt  small  and  young  and  hopelessly  evil  as 
she  walked  in  the  dark  along  a  grass  path  to  a  seat 
under  a  tree.  The  very  stillness  of  the  night 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  327 

was  a  horror  to  her,  especially  when  once  an 
owl  called,  and  again  a  dreaming  bird  cried  in  its 
nest. 

She  sat  under  the  tree  in  the  dark  for  at  least  an 
hour.  The  thick  shadow  of  the  drooping  branches 
hid  her  in  actual  blackness  and  seclusion. 

She  said  to  herself  later  that  some  one  of  the 
occult  powers  she  believed  in  had  made  her  go  out 
and  sit  in  this  particular  spot,  because  there  was 
a  thing  which  was  not  to  be,  and  she  herself  must 
come  between. 

When  she  at  last  rose  it  was  with  panting 
breath.  She  stole  back  to  her  room,  and  lighted 
with  an  unsteady  hand  a  bedroom  candle,  whose 
flame  flickered  upon  a  distorted,  little  dark  face. 
For  as  she  had  sat  under  the  tree  she  had,  after  a 
while,  heard  whispering  begin  quite  near  her ;  had 
caught,  even  in  the  darkness,  a  gleam  of  white,  and 
had  therefore  deliberately  sat  and  listened. 

There  could  be,  to  the  purely  normal  geniality 
of  Emily  Walderhurst's  nature,  no  greater  relief 
than  the  recognition  that  a  cloud  had  passed  from 
the  mood  of  another. 


328  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

When  Hester  appeared  the  next  morning  at  the 
breakfast-table,  she  had  emerged  from  her  humour 
of  the  day  before  and  was  almost  affectionate  in  her 
amiability.  The  meal  at  an  end,  she  walked  with 
Emily  in  the  garden. 

She  had  never  shown  such  interest  in  what  per 
tained  to  her  as  she  revealed  this  morning.  Some 
thing  she  had  always  before  lacked  Emily  recognised 
in  her  for  the  first  time,  —  a  desire  to  ask  friendly 
questions,  to  verge  on  the  confidential.  They 
talked  long  and  without  reserve.  And  how  pretty 
it  was  of  the  girl,  Emily  thought,  to  care  so  much 
about  her  health  and  her  spirits,  to  be  so  interested 
in  the  details  of  her  every-day  life,  even  in  the 
simple  matter  of  the  preparation  and  serving  of  her 
food,  as  if  the  merest  trifle  was  of  consequence. 
It  had  been  unfair,  too,  to  fancy  that  she  felt  no 
interest  in  Walderhurst's  absence  and  return.  She 
had  noticed  everything  closely,  and  actually  thought 
he  ought  to  come  back  at  once. 

41  Send  for  him,"  she  said  quite  suddenly  ;  "  send 
for  him  now." 

There  was  an  eagerness  expressed  in  the  dark 
thinness  of  her  face  which  moved  Emily. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  329 

"  It  is  dear  of  you  to  care  so  much,  Hester,"  she 
said.  "  I  did  n't  know  you  thought  it  mattered." 

"  He  must  come,"  said  Hester.  "  That 's  all. 
Send  for  him." 

"  I  wrote  a  letter  yesterday,"  was  Lady  Walder- 
hurst's  meek  rejoinder.  "  I  got  nervous." 

"  So  did  I  get  nervous,"  said  Hester ;  "  so  did  I." 

That  she  was  disturbed  Emily  could  see.  The 
little  laugh  she  ended  her  words  with  had  an  ex 
cited  ring  in  it. 

During  the  Osborns'  stay  at  Palstrey  the  two 
women  had  naturally  seen  a  good  deal  of  each 
other,  but  for  the  next  two  days  they  were  scarcely 
separated  at  all.  Emily,  feeling  merely  cheered 
and  supported  by  the  fact  that  Hester  made  her 
self  so  excellent  a  companion,  was  not  aware  of 
two  or  three  things.  One  was  that  Mrs.  Osborn 
did  not  lose  sight  of  her  unless  at  such  times  as 
she  was  in  the  hands  of  Jane  Cupp. 

"  I  may  as  well  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,"  the 
young  woman  said.  "  I  have  a  sense  of  responsi 
bility  about  you  that  I  have  n't  liked  to  speak  of 
before.  It 's  half  hysterical,  I  suppose,  but  it 
has  got  the  better  of  me." 


330  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"You  feel  responsible  for  me!"  exclaimed  Emily, 
with  wondering  eyes. 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  she  almost  snapped.  "  You  rep 
resent  so  much.  Walderhurst  ought  to  be  here. 
I  'm  not  fit  to  take  care  of  you." 

"  I  ought  to  be  taking  care  of  you,"  said  Emily, 
with  gentle  gravity.  "  I  am  the  older  and  stronger. 
You  are  not  nearly  so  well  as  I  am." 

Hester  startled  her  by  bursting  into  tears. 

"Then  do  as  I  tell  you,"  she  said.  "Don't 
go  anywhere  alone.  Take  Jane  Cupp  with  you. 
You  have  nearly  had  two  accidents.  Make  Jane 
sleep  in  your  dressing-room." 

Emily  felt  a  dreary  chill  creep  over  her.  That 
which  she  had  felt  in  the  air  when  she  had  slowly 
turned  an  amazed  face  upon  Jane  in  the  Lime 
Avenue,  that  sense  of  the  strangeness  of  things 
again  closed  her  in. 

"  I  will  do  as  you  wish,"  she  answered. 

But  before  the  next  day  closed  all  was  made 
plain  to  her,  all  the  awfulness,  all  the  cruel,  in 
human  truth  of  things  which  seemed  to  lose  their 
possibility  in  the  exaggeration  of  proportion  which 
made  their  incongruousness  almost  grotesque. 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  331 

The  very  prettiness  of  the  flowered  boudoir, 
the  very  softness  of  the  peace  in  the  velvet  spread 
of  garden  before  the  windows,  made  it  even  more 
unreal. 

That  day,  the  second  one,  Emily  had  begun 
to  note  the  new  thing.  Hester  was  watching  her, 
Hester  was  keeping  guard.  And  as  she  realised 
this,  the  sense  of  the  abnormalness  of  things  grew, 
and  fear  grew  with  it.  She  began  to  feel  as  if  a 
wall  were  rising  around  her,  built  by  unseen  hands. 

The  afternoon,  an  afternoon  of  deeply  golden 
sun,  they  had  spent  together.  They  had  read 
and  talked.  Hester  had  said  most.  She  had  told 
stories  of  India,  —  curious,  vivid,  interesting  stories, 
which  seemed  to  excite  her. 

At  the  time  when  the  sunlight  took  its  deepest 
gold  the  tea-tray  was  brought  in.  Hester  had  left 
the  room  a  short  time  before  the  footman  appeared 
with  it,  carrying  it  with  the  air  of  dispropor 
tionate  solemnity  with  which  certain  male  domes 
tics  are  able  to  surround  the  smallest  service. 
The  tea  had  been  frequently  served  in  Hester's 
boudoir  of  late.  During  the  last  week,  however, 
Lady  Walderhurst's  share  of  the  meal  had  been  a 


332  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

glass  of  milk.  She  had  chosen  to  take  it  because 
Mrs.  Cupp  had  suggested  that  tea  was  "  nervous." 
Emily  sat  down  at  the  table  and  rilled  a  cup  for 
Hester.  She  knew  she  would  return  in  a  few 
moments,  so  set  the  cup  before  Mrs.  Osborn's 
place  and  waited.  She  heard  the  young  woman's 
footsteps  outside,  and  as  the  door  opened  she  lifted 
the  glass  of  milk  to  her  lips. 

She  was  afterwards  absolutely  unable  to  describe 
to  herself  clearly  what  happened  the  next  moment. 
In  fact,  it  was  the  next  moment  that  she  saw 
Hester  spring  towards  her,  and  the  glass  of  milk 
had  been  knocked  from  her  hand  and  rolled, 
emptying  itself,  upon  the  floor.  Mrs.  Osborn 
stood  before  her,  clenching  and  unclenching  her 
hands. 

"  Have  you  drunk  any  of  it  ?  "   she  demanded. 

"No,"  Emily  answered.      "I  have  not." 

Hester  Osborn  dropped  into  a  chair  and  leaned 
forward,  covering  her  face  with  her  hands.  She 
looked  like  a  woman  on  the  verge  of  an  outbreak 
of  hysteria,  only  to  be  held  in  check  by  a  frenzied 
effort. 

Lady    Walderhurst,    quite    slowly,    turned    the 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  333 

colour  of  the  milk  itself.  But  she  did  nothing  but 
sit  still  and  gaze  at  Hester. 

"  Wait  a  minute."  The  girl  was  trying  to  recover 
her  breath.  "  Wait  till  I  can  hold  myself  still.  I  am 
going  to  tell  you  now.  I  am  going  to  tell  you." 

"  Yes,"  Emily  answered  faintly. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  she  waited  twenty  minutes 
before  another  word  was  spoken,  that  she  sat 
quite  that  long  looking  at  the  thin  hands  which 
seemed  to  clutch  the  hidden  face.  This  was  a 
mistake  arising  from  the  intensity  of  the  strain 
upon  her  nerves.  It  was  scarcely  five  minutes 
before  Mrs.  Osborn  lowered  her  hands  and  laid 
them,  pressed  tightly  palm  to  palm,  between  her 
knees. 

She  spoke  in  a  low  voice,  such  a  voice  as  a 
listener  outside  could  not  have  heard. 

"Do  you  know,"  she  demanded,  "what  you 
represent  to  us  —  to  me  and  to  my  husband  —  as 
you  sit  there  ?  " 

Emily  shook  her  head.  The  movement  of  dis 
claimer  was  easier  than  speech.  She  felt  a  sort  of 
exhaustion. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  do,"  said  Hester.     "  You 


334  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

don't  seem  to  realise  anything.  Perhaps  it 's 
because  you  are  so  innocent,  perhaps  it 's  be 
cause  you  are  so  foolish.  You  represent  the  thing 
that  we  have  the  right  to  bate  most  on  earth." 

11  Do  you  hate  me  ?  "  asked  Emily,  trying  to 
adjust  herself  mentally  to  the  mad  extraordinari- 
ness  of  the  situation,  and  at  the  same  time  scarcely 
understanding  why  she  asked  her  question. 

"  Sometimes  I  do.  When  I  do  not  I  wonder 
at  myself."  The  girl  paused  a  second,  looked 
down,  as  if  questioningly,  at  the  carpet,  and  then, 
lifting  her  eyes  again,  went  on  in  a  dragging,  half 
bewildered  voice :  "  When  I  do  not,  I  actually 
believe  it  is  because  we  are  both  —  women  to 
gether.  Before,  it  was  different." 

The  look  which  Walderhurst  had  compared  to 
"  that  of  some  nice  animal  in  the  Zoo  "  came  into 
Emily's  eyes  as  two  honest  drops  fell  from  them. 

"  Would  you  hurt  me  ?  "  she  faltered.  u  Could 
you  let  other  people  hurt  me  ?  " 

Hester  leaned  further  forward  in  her  chair, 
widening  upon  her  such  hysterically  insistent,  ter 
rible  young  eyes  as  made  her  shudder. 

"  Don't  you  see  ?  "  she  cried.     "  Can't  you  see  ? 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  335 

But  for  you  my  son  would  be  what  Walderhurst  is 
—  my  son,  not  yours." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Emily.     "  I  understand." 

"  Listen  !  "  Mrs.  Osborn  went  on  through  her 
teeth.  "  Even  for  that,  there  are  things  I 
have  n't  the  nerve  to  stand.  I  have  thought  I 
could  stand  them.  But  I  can't.  It  does  not 
matter  why.  I  am  going  to  tell  you  the  truth. 
You  represent  too  much.  You  have  been  too 
great  a  temptation.  Nobody  meant  anything  or 
planned  anything  at  first.  It  all  came  by  degrees. 
To  see  you  smiling  and  enjoying  everything  and 
adoring  that  stilted  prig  of  a  Walderhurst  put 
ideas  into  people's  heads,  and  they  grew  because 
every  chance  fed  them.  If  Walderhurst  would 
come  home  —  " 

Lady  Walderhurst  put  out  her  hand  to  a  letter 
which  lay  on  the  table. 

"  I  heard  from  him  this  morning,"  she  said. 
"And  he  has  been  sent  to  the  Hills  because  he 
has  a  little  fever.  He  must  be  quiet.  So  you 
see  he  cannot  come  yet." 

She  was  shivering,  though  she  was  determined 
to  keep  still. 


336  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  What  was  in  the  milk  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  In  the  milk  there  was  the  Indian  root 
Ameerah  gave  the  village  girl.  Last  night  as  I 
sat  under  a  tree  in  the  dark  I  heard  it  talked  over. 
Only  a  few  native  women  know  it." 

There  was  a  singular  gravity  in  the  words  poor 
Lady  Walderhurst  spoke  in  reply. 

"  That,"  she  said,  "  would  have  been  the  cruel- 
est  thing  of  all." 

Mrs.  Osborn  got  up  and  came  close  to  her. 

"  If  you  had  gone  out  on  Faustine,"  she  said, 
"  you  would  have  met  with  an  accident.  It  might 
or  might  not  have  killed  you.  But  it  would  have 
been  an  accident.  If  you  had  gone  downstairs 
before  Jane  Cupp  saw  the  bit  of  broken  balus 
trade  you  might  have  been  killed  —  by  accident 
again.  If  you  had  leaned  upon  the  rail  of  the 
bridge  you  would  have  been  drowned,  and  no 
human  being  could  have  been  accused  or 
blamed." 

Emily  gasped  for  breath,  and  lifted  her  head  as 
if  to  raise  it  above  the  wall  which  was  being 
slowly  built  round  her. 

41  Nothing  will  be  done  which  can  be  proved^" 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  337 

said  Hester  Osborn.  "  I  have  lived  among  native 
people,  and  know.  If  Ameerah  hated  me  and  I 
could  not  get  rid  of  her  I  should  die,  and  it  would 
all  seem  quite  natural." 

She  bent  down  and  picked  up  the  empty  glass 
from  the  carpet. 

"  It  is  a  good  thing  it  did  not  break,"  she  said, 
as  she  put  it  on  the  tray.  "  Ameerah  will  think 
you  drank  the  milk  and  that  nothing  will  hurt  you. 
You  escape  them  always.  She  will  be  frightened." 

As  she  said  it  she  began  to  cry  a  little,  like  a 
child. 

"  Nothing  will  save  me"  she  said.  "  I  shall 
have  to  go  back,  I  shall  have  to  go  back  !  " 

"  No,  no  !  "  cried  Emily. 

The  girl  swept  away  her  tears  with  the  back  of 
a  clenched  hand. 

"At  first,  when  I  hated  you,"  she  was  even 
petulant  and  plaintively  resentful,  "  I  thought  I 
could  let  it  go  on.  I  watched,  and  watched,  and 
bore  it.  But  the  strain  was  too  great.  I  broke 
down.  I  think  I  broke  down  one  night,  when 
something  began  to  beat  like  a  pulse  against  my 
side." 


338  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Emily  got  up  and  stood  before  her.  She  looked 
perhaps  rather  as  she  had  looked  when  she  rose 
and  stood  before  the  Marquis  of  Walderhurst  on  a 
memorable  occasion,  the  afternoon  on  the  moor. 
She  felt  almost  quiet,  and  safe. 

"  What  must  I  do  ?  "  she  asked,  as  if  she  was 
speaking  to  a  friend.  "  /  am  afraid.  Tell  me." 

Little  Mrs.  Osborn  stood  still  and  stared  at  her. 
The  most  incongruous  thought  came  to  her 
mind.  She  found  herself,  at  this  weird  moment, 
observing  how  well  the  woman  held  her  stupid 
head,  how  finely  it  was  set  on  her  shoulders,  and 
that  in  a  modern  Royal  Academy  way  she  was 
rather  like  the  Venus  of  Milo.  It  is  quite  out  of 
place  to  think  such  things  at  such  a  time.  But 
she  found  herself  confronted  with  them. 

"  Go  away,"  she  answered.  "  It  is  all  like  a 
thing  in  a  play,  but  I  know  what  I  am  talking 
about.  Say  you  are  ordered  abroad.  Be  cool  and 
matter-of-fact.  Simply  go  and  hide  yourself  some 
where,  and  call  your  husband  home  as  soon  as  he 
can  travel." 

Emily  Walderhurst  passed  her  hand  over  her 
forehead. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  339 

"  It  is  like  something  in  a  play,"  she  said,  with 
a  baffled,  wondering  face.  "  It  is  n't  even  re 
spectable." 

Hester  began  to  laugh. 

"No, it  is  n't  even  respectable,"  she  cried.  And 
her  laughter  was  just  in  time.  The  door  opened 
and  Alec  Osborn  came  in. 

"  What  is  n't  respectable  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Something  I  have  been  telling  Emily,"  she 
answered,  laughing  even  a  trifle  wildly.  "You  are 
too  young  to  hear  such  things.  You  must  be  kept 
respectable  at  any  cost." 

He  grinned,  but  faintly  scowled  at  the  same 
time. 

"  You  've  upset  something,"  he  remarked,  look 
ing  at  the  carpet. 

"I  have,  indeed,"  said  Hester.  "A  cup  of  tea 
which  was  half  milk.  It  will  leave  a  grease  spot 
on  the  carpet.  That  won't  be  respectable." 

When  she  had  tumbled  about  among  native 
servants  as  a  child,  she  had  learned  to  lie  quickly, 
and  she  was  very  ready  of  resource. 


Chapter 
nineteen 


'S  she  heard  the  brougham  draw 
up  in  the  wet  street  before  the 
door,  Mrs.  Warren  allowed 
her  book  to  fall  closed  upon 
her  lap,  and  her  attractive  face 
awakened  to  an  expression  of 
agreeable  expectation,  in  itself 
denoting  the  existence  of  interesting  and  desirable 
qualities  in  the  husband  at  the  moment  inserting  his 
latch-key  in  the  front  door  preparatory  to  mounting 
the  stairs  and  joining  her.  The  man  who,  after 
twenty-five  years  of  marriage,  can  call,  by  his  re 
turn  to  her  side,  this  expression  to  the  countenance 
of  an  intelligent  woman  is,  without  question  or 
argument,  an  individual  whose  life  and  occupations 
are  as  interesting  as  his  character  and  points  of  view. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  341 

Dr.  Warren  was  of  the  mental  build  of  the  man 
whose  life  would  be  interesting  and  full  of  outlook 
if  it  were  spent  on  a  desert  island  or  in  the  Bastille. 
He  possessed  the  temperament  which  annexes  in 
cident  and  adventure,  and  the  perceptiveness  of 
imagination  which  turns  a  light  upon  the  merest 
fragment  of  event.  As  a  man  whose  days  were 
filled  with  the  work  attendant  upon  the  exercise 
of  a  profession  from  which  can  be  withheld  few 
secrets,  and  to  which  most  mysteries  explain  them 
selves,  his  brain  was  the  recording  machine  of  im 
pressions  which  might  have  stimulated  to  vividness 
of  imagination  a  man  duller  than  himself,  and 
roused  to  feeling  one  of  far  less  warm  emotions.. 

He  came  into  the  room  smiling.  He  was  a 
man  of  fifty,  of  strong  build,  and  masculine.  He 
had  good  shoulders  and  good  colour,  and  the  eyes, 
nose,  and  chin  of  a  man  it  would  be  a  stupid  thing 
to  attempt  to  deal  with  in  a  blackguardly  manner. 
He  sat  down  in  his  chair  by  the  fire  and  began  to 
chat,  as  was  his  habit  before  he  and  his  wife  parted 
to  dress  for  dinner.  When  he  was  out  during  the 
day  he  often  looked  forward  to  these  chats,  and 
made  notes  of  things  he  would  like  to  tell  his 


342  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Mary.  During  her  day,  which  was  given  to  femi 
nine  duties  and  pleasures,  she  frequently  did  the 
same  thing.  Between  seven  and  eight  in  the 
evening  they  had  delightful  conversational  oppor 
tunities.  He  picked  up  her  book  and  glanced  it 
over,  he  asked  her  a  few  questions  and  answered  a 
few  ;  but  she  saw  it  was  with  a  somewhat  preoc 
cupied  manner.  She  knew  a  certain  remote  look 
in  his  eye,  and  she  waited  to  see  him  get  up  from 
his  chair  and  begin  to  walk  to  and  fro,  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets  and  his  head  thrown  back. 
When,  after  having  done  this,  he  began  in  addition 
to  whistle  softly  and  draw  his  eyebrows  together, 
she  broke  in  upon  him  in  the  manner  of  merely 
following  an  established  custom. 

"  I  am  perfectly  sure,"  was  her  remark,  "that  you 
have  come  upon  one  of  the  Extraordinary  Cases." 

The  last  two  words  were  spoken  as  with  in 
verted  commas.  Of  many  deep  interests  he  added 
to  her  existence,  the  Extraordinary  Cases  were 
among  the  most  absorbing.  He  had  begun  to 
discuss  them  with  her  during  the  first  year  of  their 
married  life.  Accident  had  thrown  one  of  them 
into  her  immediate  personal  experience,  and  her 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  343 

clear-headed  comprehension  and  sympathy  in  sum 
ming  up  singular  evidence  had  been  of  such  value 
to  him  that  he  had  turned  to  her  in  the  occurrence 
of  others  for  the  aid  straightforward,  mutual  logic 
could  give.  She  had  learned  to  await  the  Extraor 
dinary  Case  with  something  like  eagerness.  Some 
times,  it  was  true,  its  incidents  were  painful ;  but 
invariably  they  were  absorbing  in  their  interest,  and 
occasionally  illuminating  beyond  description.  Of 
names  and  persons  it  was  not  necessary  she  should 
hear  anything  —  the  drama,  the  ethics,  were  enough. 
With  an  absolute  respect  for  his  professional  re 
serves,  she  asked  no  questions  he  could  not  reply 
to  freely,  and  avoided  even  the  innocent  following 
of  clues.  The  Extraordinary  Case  was  always 
quite  enough  as  it  stood.  When  she  saw  the 
remotely  speculative  look  in  his  eye,  she  suspected 
one,  when  he  left  his  chair  and  paced  the  floor  with 
that  little  air  of  restlessness,  and  ended  with  uncon 
scious  whistling  which  was  scarcely  louder  than  a 
breath,  she  felt  that  evidence  enough  had  accumu 
lated  for  her. 

He  stopped  and  turned  round. 

"  My   good    Mary,"   he  owned    at    once,   "  >*s 


344  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

extraordinariness    consists    in    its    baffling   me    by 
being  so  perfectly   ordinary." 

"  Well,  at  least  that  is  not  frequent.  What  is 
its  nature  ?  Is  it  awful  ?  Is  it  sad  ?  Is  it  eccen 
tric  ?  Is  it  mad  or  sane,  criminal  or  domestic  ?  " 

"  It  is  nothing  but  suggestive,  and  that  it  sug 
gests  mystery  to  me  makes  me  feel  as  if  I  myself, 
instead  of  a  serious  practitioner,  am  a  professional 
detective." 

"  Is  it  a  case  in  which  you  might  need  help  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  case  in  which  I  am  impelled  to  give 
help,  if  it  proves  that  it  is  necessary.  She  is  such 
an  exceedingly  nice  woman." 

"  Good,  bad,  or  indifferent  ?  " 

"  Of  a  goodness,  I  should  say  —  of  a  good 
ness  which  might  prevent  the  brain  acting  in  the 
manner  in  which  a  brutal  world  requires  at  present 
that  the  human  brain  should  act  in  self-defence. 
Of  a  goodness  which  may  possibly  have  betrayed 
her  Into  the  most  pathetic  trouble." 

"Of  the  kind — ?"  was  Mrs.  Warren's  sug 
gestion. 

"Of  that  kind,"  with  a  troubled  look;  "but  she 
is  a  married  woman." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  345 

"She  says  she  is  a  married  woman." 
"  No.  She  does  not  say  so,  but  she  looks  it. 
That 's  the  chief  feature  of  the  case.  Any  woman 
bearing  more  obviously  the  stamp  of  respectable 
British  matrimony  than  this  one  does,  it  has  not 
fallen  to  me  to  look  upon." 

Mrs.  Warren's  expression  was  intngu'ee  in  the 
extreme.  There  was  a  freshness  in  this,  at  least. 

"  But  if  she  bears  the  stamp  as  well  as  the 
name  — !  Do  tell  me  all  it  is  possible  to  tell. 
Come  and  sit  down,  Harold." 

He  sat  down  and  entered  into  details. 
"  I  was  called  to  a  lady  who,  though  not  ill, 
seemed  fatigued  from  a  hurried  journey  and,  as 
it  seemed  to  me,  the  effects  of  anxiety  and  re 
pressed  excitement.  I  found  her  in  a  third-class 
lodging-house  in  a  third-class  street.  It  was  a 
house  which  had  the  air  of  a  place  hastily  made 
inhabitable  for  some  special  reason.  There  were 
evidences  that  money  had  been  spent,  but  that 
there  had  been  no  time  to  arrange  things.  I  have 
seen  something  of  the  kind  before,  and  when  I 
was  handed  into  my  patient's  sitting-room,  thought 
I  knew  the  type  I  should  find.  It  is  always  more 


346  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

or  less  the  same, — a  girl  or  a  very  young  woman, 
pretty  and  refined  and  frightened,  or  pretty  and 
vulgar  and  c  carrying  it  off'  with  transparent  pre 
tences  and  airs  and  graces.  Anything  more  remote 
from  what  I  expected  you  absolutely  cannot 
conceive." 

"  Not  young  and  pretty  ?  " 

"  About  thirty-five  or  six.  A  fresh,  finely  built 
woman  with  eyes  as  candid  as  a  six-year-old  girl's. 
Quite  unexplanatory  and  with  the  best  possible 
manner,  only  sweetly  anxious  about  her  health. 
Her  confidence  in  my  advice  and  the  earnestness 
of  her  desire  to  obey  my  least  instructions  were 
moving.  Ten  minutes'  conversation  with  her  re 
vealed  to  me  depths  of  long-secreted  romance  in 
my  nature.  I  mentally  began  to  swear  fealty  to 
her." 

"  Did  she  tell  you  that  her  husband  was  away  ?  " 

"What  specially  struck  me  was  that  it  did  not 
occur  to  her  that  her  husband  required  stating, 
which  was  ingenuously  impressive.  She  did  not 
explain  her  mother  or  her  uncles,  why  her  hus 
band  ?  Her  mental  attitude  had  a  translucent 
clearness.  She  wanted  a  medical  man  to  take 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  347 

charge  of  her,  and  if  she  had  been  an  amiable,  un- 
brilliant  lady  who  was  a  member  of  the  royal  house, 
she  would  have  conversed  with  me  exactly  as  she 
did." 

"  She  was  so  respectable  ?  " 

"  She  was  even  a  little  Mid-Victorian,  dear 
Mary ;  a  sort  of  clean,  healthy,  Mid-Victorian 
angel." 

"There's  an  incongruousness  in  the  figure  in 
connection  with  being  obviously  in  hiding  in  a 
lodging-house  street."  And  Mrs.  Warren  gave 
herself  to  reflection. 

11 1  cannot  make  it  as  incongruous  as  she  was. 
I  have  not  told  you  all.  I  have  saved  to  the  last 
the  feature  which  marked  her  most  definitely  as 
an  Extraordinary  Case.  I  suppose  one  does  that 
sort  of  thing  from  a  sense  of  drama." 

"What  else?"  inquired  Mrs.  Warren,  roused 
from  her  speculation. 

"  What  respectable  conclusion  could  one  deduce 
from  the  fact  that  a  letter  lay  on  the  table  near 
her,  sealed  with  an  imposing  coat  of  arms.  One's 
eye  having  accidentally  fallen  on  it,  one  could,  of 
course,  only  avoid  glancing  at  it  again,  so  I  rec- 


348  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

ognised  nothing  definite.  Also,  when  I  was 
announced  unexpectedly,  I  saw  her  quickly  with 
draw  her  hand  from  her  lips.  She  had  been 
kissing  a  ring  she  wore.  I  could  not  help  seeing 
that  afterwards.  My  good  Mary,  it  was  a  ruby, 
of  a  size  and  colour  which  recalled  the  Arabian 
Nights." 

Mrs.  Warren  began  to  resign  herself. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  there  is  no  respectable  con 
clusion  to  be  drawn.  It  is  tragic,  but  prosaic. 
She  has  been  governess  or  companion  in  some 
great  house.  She  may  be  a  well-born  woman. 
It  is  ten  times  more  hideous  for  her  than  if  she 
were  a  girl.  She  has  to  writhe  under  knowing 
that  both  her  friends  and  her  enemies  are  saying 
that  she  had  not  the  excuse  of  not  having  been  old 
enough  to  know  better." 

"That  might  all  be  true,"  he  admitted  promptly. 
"  It  would  be  true  if —  but  she  is  not  writhing. 
She  is  no  more  unhappy  than  you  or  I.  She  is 
only  anxious,  and  I  could  swear  that  she  is  only 
anxious  about  one  thing.  The  moment  in  which 
I  swore  fealty  to  her  was  when  she  said  to  me,  c  I 
want  to  be  quite  safe  —  until  after.  I  do  not  care 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  349 

for  myself.  I  will  bear  anything  or  do  anything. 
Only  one  thing  matters.  I  shall  be  such  a  good 
patient.'  Then  her  eyes  grew  moist,  and  she 
closed  her  lips  decorously  to  keep  them  from 
trembling. 

"  They  're  not  usually  like  that,"  Mrs.  Warren 
remarked. 

11 1  have  not  found  them  so,"  he  replied. 

"  Perhaps  she  believes  the  man  will  marry  her." 

There  was  odd  unexpectedness  in  the  manner  in 
which  Dr.  Warren  suddenly  began  to  laugh. 

"  My  dear  wife,  if  you  could  see  her  !  It  is  the 
incongruity  of  what  we  are  saying  which  makes 
me  laugh.  With  her  ruby  and  her  coronets  and 
her  lodging-house  street,  she  is  of  an  impeccable- 
ness  !  She  does  not  even  know  she  could  be 
doubted.  Fifteen  years  of  matrimony  spent  in 
South  Kensington,  three  girls  in  the  schoolroom 
and  four  boys  at  Eton,  could  not  have  crystallised 
a  more  unquestionable  serenity.  And  you  are 
saying  gravely,  '  Perhaps  she  believes  the  man  will 
marry  her.'  Whatsoever  the  situation  is,  I  am 
absolutely  sure  that  she  has  never  asked  herself 
whether  he  would  or  not." 


350  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

"  Then,"  Mrs.  Warren  answered,  "  it  is  the 
most  Extraordinary  Case  we  have  had  yet." 

"  But  I  have  sworn  fealty  to  her,"  was  Warren's 
conclusion.  "  And  she  will  tell  me  more  later." 
He  shook  his  head  with  an  air  of  certainty.  "Yes, 
she  will  feel  it  necessary  to  tell  me  later." 

They  went  upstairs  to  dress  for  dinner,  and 
during  the  remainder  of  the  evening  which  they 
spent  alone  they  talked  almost  entirely  of  the 
matter. 


ADY  WALDERHURST'S 

departure  from  Pa  Is  trey, 
though  unexpected,  had 
been  calm  and  matter-of- 
fact.  All  the  Osborns  knew 
was  that  she  had  been 
obliged  to  go  up  to  London 
for  a  day  or  two,  and  that  when  there,  her  physician 
had  advised  certain  German  baths.  Her  letter  of 
explanation  and  apology  was  very  nice.  She  could 
not  return  to  the  country  before  beginning  her 
journey.  It  seemed  probable  that  she  would  return 
with  her  husband,  who  might  arrive  in  England 
during  the  next  two  months. 

"  Has   she    heard    chat   he   is   coming    back  ? " 
Captain  Osborn  asked  his  wife. 

"  She  has  written  to  ask  him  to  come." 


352  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Osborn  grinned. 

"  He  will  be  obliged  to  her.  He  is  tremen 
dously  pleased  with  his  importance  at  this  par 
ticular  time,  and  he  is  just  the  sort  of  man  —  as  we 
both  know  —  to  be  delighted  at  being  called  back 
to  preside  over  an  affair  which  is  usually  a  matter 
for  old  women." 

But  the  letter  he  had  examined,  as  it  lay  with 
the  rest  awaiting  postal,  he  had  taken  charge  of 
himself.  He  knew  that  one,  at  least,  would  not 
reach  Lord  Walderhurst.  Having  heard  in  time 
of  the  broken  bridge-rail,  he  had  been  astute 
enough  to  guess  that  the  letter  written  immediately 
after  the  incident  might  convey  such  impressions 
as  might  lead  even  his  lordship  to  feel  that  it 
would  be  well  for  him  to  be  at  home.  The 
woman  had  been  frightened,  and  would  be  sure  to 
iose  her  head  and  play  the  fool.  In  a  few  days 
she  would  calm  down  and  the  affair  would  assume 
smaller  proportions.  At  any  rate,  he  had  chosen 
to  take  charge  of  this  particular  letter. 

What  he  did  not  know,  however,  was  that 
oiiance  had  played  into  his  hands  in  the  matter  of 
temporarily  upsetting  Lord  Walderhurst's  rather 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  353 

unreliable  digestion,  and  in  altering  his  plans,  by  a 
smart,  though  not  dangerous,  attack  of  fever  which 
had  ended  in  his  being  ordered  to  a  part  of  the  hill 
country  not  faithfully  reached  by  letters ;  as  a 
result  of  which  several  communications  from  his 
wife  went  astray  and  were  unduly  delayed.  At 
the  time  Captain  Osborn  was  discussing  him  with 
Hester,  he  was  taking  annoyed  care  of  himself 
with  the  aid  of  a  doctor,  irritated  by  the  untoward 
disturbance  of  his  arrangements,  and  giving,  it  is 
true,  comparatively  little  thought  to  his  wife,  who, 
being  comfortably  installed  at  Palstrey  Manor, 
was  doubtless  enjoyably  absorbed  in  little  Mrs. 
Osborn. 

"  What  German  baths  does  she  intend  going 
to  ?  "  Alec  Osborn  inquired. 

Hester  consulted  the  letter  with  a  manner  de 
noting  but  languid  interest. 

"  It 's  rather  like  her  that  she  does  n't  go  to  the 
length  of  explaining,"  was  her  reply.  "  She  has  a 
way  of  telling  you  a  great  many  things  you  don't 
care  to  know,  and  forgetting  to  mention  those  you 
are  interested  in.  She  is  very  detailed  about  her 
health,  and  her  affection  and  mine.  She  evidently 


354  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

expects  us  to  go  back  to  The   Kennel  Farm,  and 

deplores  her  inhospitality,  with  adjectives." 

She  did  not  look  as  if  she  was  playing  a  part ; 
but  she  was  playing  one,  and  doing  it  well.  Her 
little  way  was  that  of  a  nasty-tempered,  self-cen 
tred  woman,  made  spiteful  by  being  called  upon  to 
leave  a  place  which  suited  her. 

1  "  You  are  not  really  any  fonder  of  her  than  I 
am,"  commented  Osborn,  after  regarding  her  spec- 
ulatively  a  few  moments.  If  he  had  been  as  sure 
of  her  as  he  had  been  of  Ameerah  —  ! 

"  I  don't  know  of  any  reason  for  my  being  par 
ticularly  fond  of  her,"  she  said.  "  It 's  easy  enough 
for  a  rich  woman  to  be  good-natured.  It  does  n't 
cost  her  enough  to  constitute  a  claim." 

Osborn  helped  himself  to  a  stiff  whiskey  and 
soda.  They  went  back  to  The  Kennel  Farm 
the  next  day,  and  though  it  was  his  habit  to  con 
sume  a  large  number  of  "  pegs  "  daily,  the  habit 
increased  until  there  were  not  many  hours  in  the 
day  when  he  was  normally  sure  of  what  he  was 
doing. 

The  German  baths  to  which  Lady  Walderhurst 
had  gone  were  nearer  to  Palstrey  than  any  one 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  355 

knew.  They  were  only  at  a  few  hours'  distance 
by  rail. 

When,  after  a  day  spent  in  a  quiet  London 
lodging,  Mrs.  Cupp  returned  to  her  mistress  with 
the  information  that  she  had  been  to  the  house  in 
Mortimer  Street  and  found  that  the  widow  who 
had  bought  the  lease  and  furniture  was  worn  out 
with  ill-luck  and  the  uncertainty  of  lodgers,  and 
only  longed  for  release  which  was  not  ruin,  Emily 
cried  a  little  for  joy. 

"  Oh,  how  I  should  like  to  be  there  !  "  she  said. 
"  It  was  such  a  dear  house.  No  one  would  ever 
dream  of  my  being  in  it.  And  I  need  have  no 
one  but  you  and  Jane.  I  should  be  so  safe  and 
quiet.  Tell  her  you  have  a  friend  who  will  take 
it,  as  it  is,  for  a  year,  and  pay  her  anything." 

"  I  won't  tell  her  quite  that,  my  lady,"  Mrs. 
Cupp  made  sagacious  answer.  "  I  '11  make  her  an 
offer  in  ready  money  down,  and  no  questions  asked 
by  either  of  us.  People  in  her  position  sometimes 
gets  a  sudden  let  that  pays  them  better  than  lodgers. 
All  classes  has  their  troubles,  and  sometimes  a 
decent  house  is  wanted  for  a  few  months,  where 
money  can  be  paid.  I  '11  make  her  an  offer." 


356  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

The  outcome  of  which  was  that  the  widowed 
householder  walked  out  of  her  domicile  the  next 
morning  with  a  heavier  purse  and  a  lighter  mind 
than  she  had  known  for  many  months.  The 
same  night,  ingenuously  oblivious  of  having  been 
called  upon  to  fill  the  role  of  a  lady  in  genteel 
"  trouble,"  good  and  decorous  Emily  Walderhurst 
arrived  under  the  cover  of  discreet  darkness  in  a 
cab,  and  when  she  found  herself  in  the  u  best  bed 
room,"  which  had  once  been  so  far  beyond  her 
means,  she  cried  a  little  for  joy  again,  because  the 
four  dull  walls,  the  mahogany  dressing-table,  and 
ugly  frilled  pincushions  looked  so  unmelodramati- 
cally  normal  and  safe. 

"  It  seems  so  home-like,"  she  said  ;  adding  cour 
ageously,  "  it  is  a  very  comfortable  place,  really." 

"  We  can  make  it  much  more  cheerful,  my 
lady,"  Jane  said,  with  grateful  appreciation.  "  And 
the  relief  makes  it  like  Paradise."  She  was  leav 
ing  the  room  and  stopped  at  the  door.  "There's 
not  a  person,  black  or  white,  can  get  across  the 
door-mat,  past  mother  and  me,  until  his  lordship 
comes,"  she  allowed  herself  the  privilege  of  adding. 

Emily  felt  a  little  nervous  when  she  pictured  to 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  357 

herself  Lord  Walderhurst  crossing  the  door-mat  of 
a  house  in  Mortimer  Street  in  search  of  his  Mar 
chioness.  She  had  not  yet  had  time  to  tell  him 
the  story  of  the  episode  of  the  glass  of  milk  and 
Hester  Osborn's  sudden  outburst.  Every  moment 
had  been  given  to  carefully  managed  arrangement 
for  the  journey  which  was  to  seem  so  natural. 
Hester's  cleverness  had  suggested  every  step  and 
had  supported  her  throughout.  But  for  Hester 
she  was  afraid  she  might  have  betrayed  herself. 
There  had  been  no  time  for  writing.  But  when 
James  received  her  letter  (of  late  she  had  more 
than  once  thought  of  him  as  "James  "),  he  would 
know  the  one  thing  that  was  important.  And  she 
had  asked  him  to  come  to  her.  She  had  apologised 
for  suggesting  any  alteration  of  his  plans,  but  she 
had  really  asked  him  to  come  to  her. 

"  I  think  he  will  come,"  she  said  to  herself. 
u  I  do  think  he  will.  I  shall  be  so  glad.  Perhaps 
I  have  not  been  sensible,  perhaps  I  have  not  done 
the  best  thing,  but  if  I  keep  myself  safe  until 
he  comes  back,  that  really  seems  what  is  most 
important." 

Two   or   three  days  in   the  familiar  rooms,  at- 


358  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

tended  only  by  the  two  friendly  creatures  she 
knew  so  well,  seemed  to  restore  the  balance  of 
life  for  her.  Existence  became  comfortable  and 
prosaic  again.  The  best  bedroom  and  the  room 
in  which  she  spent  her  days  were  made  quite 
cheerful  through  Jane's  enterprise  and  memories 
of  the  appointments  of  Palstrey.  Jane  brought  her 
tea  in  the  morning,  Mrs.  Cupp  presided  over  the 
kitchen.  The  agreeable  doctor,  whose  reputation 
they  had  heard  so  much  of,  came  and  went,  leaving 
his  patient  feeling  that  she  might  establish  a  friend 
ship.  He  looked  so  clever  and  so  kind. 

She  began  to  smile  her  childlike  smile  again. 
Mrs.  Cupp  and  Jane  told  each  other  in  private 
that  if  she  had  not  been  a  married  lady,  they 
would  have  felt  that  she  was  Miss  Fox-Seton 
again.  She  looked  so  like  herself,  with  her 
fresh  colour  and  her  nice,  cheerful  eyes.  And  yet 
to  think  of  the  changes  there  had  been,  and 
what  they  had  gone  through  ! 

People  in  London  know  nothing  —  or  every 
thing —  of  their  neighbours.  The  people  who 
lived  in  Mortimer  Street  were  of  the  hard-worked 
lodging-house  keeping  class,  and  had  too  many 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  359 

anxieties  connected  with  butcher's  bills,  rent,  and 
taxes,  to  be  able  to  give  much  time  to  their 
neighbours.  The  life  in  the  house  which  had 
changed  hands  had  nothing  noticeable  about  it. 
It  looked  from  the  outside  as  it  had  always 
looked.  The  door-steps  were  kept  clean,  milk 
was  taken  in  twice  a  day,  and  local  tradesmen's 
carts  left  things  in  the  ordinary  manner.  A  doc 
tor  occasionally  called  to  see  someone,  and  the 
only  person  who  had  inquired  about  the  patient 
(she  was  a  friendly  creature,  who  met  Mrs.  Cupp 
at  the  grocer's,  and  exchanged  a  few  neighbourly 
words)  was  told  that  ladies  who  lived  in  furnished 
apartments,  and  had  nothing  to  do,  seemed  to  find 
an  interest  in  seeing  a  doctor  about  things  work 
ing-women  had  no  time  to  bother  about.  Mrs. 
Cupp's  view  seemed  to  be  that  doctor's  visits  and 
medicine  bottles  furnished  entertainment.  Mrs. 
Jameson  had  "  as  good  a  colour  and  as  good  an 
appetite  as  you  or  me,"  but  she  was  one  who 
"  thought  she  caught  cold  easy,"  and  she  was 
"  afraid  of  fresh  air." 

Dr.    Warren's    interest    in    the     Extraordinary 
Case   increased   at   each  visit   he   made.      He   did 


360  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

not  see  the  ruby  ring  again.  When  he  had  left 
the  house  after  his  first  call,  Mrs.  Cupp  had 
called  Lady  Walderhurst's  attention  to  the  fact 
that  the  ring  was  on  her  hand,  and  could  not  be 
considered  compatible  with  even  a  first  floor  front 
in  Mortimer  Street.  Emily  had  been  frightened 
and  had  removed  it. 

"  But  the  thing  that  upsets  me  when  I  hand 
him  in,"  Jane  said  to  her  mother  anxiously  in 
private,  "  is  the  way  she  can't  help  looking.  You 
know  what  I  mean,  mother,  —  her  nice,  free,  good 
look.  And  we  never  could  talk  to  her  about  it. 
We  should  have  to  let  her  know  that  it  's  more 
than  likely  he  thinks  she  's  just  what  she  is  n't. 
It  makes  me  mad  to  think  of  it.  But  as  it  had 
to  be,  if  she  only  looked  a  little  awkward,  or  not 
such  a  lady,  or  a  bit  uppish  and  fretful,  she  would 
seem  so  much  more  real.  And  then  there  's 
another  thing.  You  know  she  always  did  carry 
her  head  well,  even  when  she  was  nothing  but 
poor  Miss  Fox-Seton  tramping  about  shopping 
with  muddy  feet.  And  now,  having  been  a 
marchioness  till  she  's  got  used  to  it,  and  know 
ing  that  she  is  one,  gives  her  an  innocent,  stately 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  361 

look  sometimes.  It  's  a  thing  she  does  n't  know 
of  herself,  but  I  do  declare  that  sometimes  as  she  's 
sat  there  talking  just  as  sweet  as  could  be,  I  've 
felt  as  if  I  ought  to  say,  c  Oh  !  if  you  please,  my 
lady,  if  you  could  look  not  quite  so  much  as  if 
you'd  got  on  a  tiara.'" 

"  Ah  !  "  and  Mrs.  Cupp  shook  her  head,  "  but 
that 's  what  her  Maker  did  for  her.  She  was 
born  just  what  she  looks,  and  she  looks  just  what 
she  was  born,  —  a  respectable  female." 

Whereby  Dr.  Warren  continued  to  feel  him 
self  baffled. 

"  She  only  goes  out  for  exercise  after  dark, 
Mary,"  he  said.  "  Also  in  the  course  of  conver 
sation  I  have  discovered  that  she  believes  every 
word  of  the  Bible  literally,  and  would  be  alarmed 
if  one  could  not  accept  the  Athanasian  Creed. 
She  is  rather  wounded  and  puzzled  by  the  curses 
it  contains,  but  she  feels  sure  that  it  would  be 
wrong  to  question  anything  in  the  Church  Ser 
vice.  Her  extraordinariness  is  wholly  her 
incompatibleness." 

Gradually  they  had  established  the  friendship 
Emily  had  thought  possible.  Once  or  twice  Dr. 


362  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Warren  took  tea  with  her.  Her  unabashed  and 
accustomed  readiness  of  hospitality  was  as  incom 
patible  with  her  circumstances  as  all  the  rest. 
She  had  the  ease  of  a  woman  who  had  amiably 
poured  out  tea  for  afternoon  callers  all  her  life. 
Women  who  were  uncertain  of  themselves  were 
not  amiably  at  ease  with  small  social  amenities. 
Her  ingenuous  talk  and  her  fervent  italics  were 
an  absolute  delight  to  the  man  who  was  studying 
her.  He,  too,  had  noticed  the  carriage  of  her 
head  Jane  Cupp  had  deplored. 

"  I  should  say  she  was  well  born,"  he  com 
mented  to  his  wife.  "She  holds  herself  as  no 
common  woman  could." 

"  Ah  !  I  have  n't  a  doubt  that  she  is  well  born, 
poor  soul." 

"  No,  not  c  poor  soul.'  No  woman  who  is  as 
happy  as  she  is  needs  pity.  Since  she  has  had 
time  to  rest,  she  looks  radiant." 

In  course  of  time,  however,  she  was  less 
radiant.  Most  people  know  something  of  wait 
ing  for  answers  to  letters  written  to  foreign  lands. 
It  seems  impossible  to  calculate  correctly  as  to 
what  length  of  time  must  elapse  before  the  reply 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  363 

to  the  letter  one  sent  by  the  last  mail  can  reach 
one.  He  who  waits  is  always  premature  in  the 
calculation  he  makes.  The  mail  should  be  due 
at  a  certain  date,  one  is  so  sure.  The  letter 
could  be  written  on  such  a  day  and  posted  at 
once.  But  the  date  calculated  for  arrives, 
passes, — the  answer  has  not  come.  Who  does 
not  remember  ? 

Emily  Walderhurst  had  passed  through  the  ex 
perience  and  knew  it  well.  But  previously  the 
letters  she  had  sent  had  been  of  less  vital  impor 
tance.  When  the  replies  to  them  had  lingered 
on  their  way  she  had,  it  is  true,  watched  eagerly 
for  the  postman,  and  had  lived  restlessly  between 
the  arrivals  of  the  mails,  but  she  had  taught  herself 
resignation  to  the  inevitable.  Now  life  had  altered 
its  aspect  and  its  significance.  She  had  tried,  with 
the  aid  of  an  untried  imagination,  to  paint  to  her 
self  the  moments  in  which  her  husband  would  read 
the  letter  which  told  him  what  she  had  told.  She 
had  wondered  if  he  would  start,  if  he  would  look 
amazed,  if  his  grey-brown  eyes  would  light  with 
pleasure  !  Might  he  not  want  to  see  her  ?  Might 
he  not  perhaps  write  at  once  ?  She  never  could 


364  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

jj?  advance   farther  in   her  imagined   reading   of  this 
j>  reply  than  the  first  lines  : 

v 

•i  "  MY  DEAR  EMILY,  —  The  unexpected  good  news  your 
fetter  contains  has  given  me  the  greatest  satisfaction.  You 
do  not  perhaps  know  how  strong  my  desire  has  been  — ' ' 


used  to  sit  and  flush  wit&  happiness  when  she 

rea'ched  this  point.     She  so  wiSffli  that  she  was  ca- 

t  *  T% 

pajlle  of  depicting  to  herself  what  fjie  rest  would  be. 

|S\e  calculated  with  the  utmost  c%e  the  probable 
date  |f  the  epistle's  arrival.  She  th^ght  she  made 
sure  <$f  allowing  plenty  of  time  'fo&all  possible 
delays\  The  safety  of  her  letters  she  H|d  managed, 
w?th  Hester's  aid,  to  arrange  for"  -They  were  for 
warded  to  her  backers  and  called  'jfor.  V)nly  the 
letters  frorn  India"'  were  of  any  importance,  and 
they  were  not  frequent.  She  told  herself  that 
she  must  be  even  more  than  usually  patient  this 
time.  When  the  letter  arrived,  if  he  told  her  he 
felt  it  proper  that  he  should  return,  no  part  of  the 
strange  experience  she  had  passed  through  would 
be  of  moment.  When  she  saw  his  decorous, 
well-bred  face  and  heard  his  correctly  modulate 
voice,  all  else  would  seem  like  an  unnatural  dream." 


\ 


EMILY   FOX-SJTON  365 

In  her  relief  at  the  decent  coMfcsure  of  the  first 
floor  front  in  Mortimer  Street^fc  days  did  not 
seem  at  first  to  pass  slowly.  BuWk  the  date  she 
had  counted  on  drew  near  she  cowl  not  restrain 
a  natural  restlessness.  She  looked^t  the  clock 
and  walked  up  and  down  the  room  a  good  deal. 
She  was  also  very  glad  when  night  came  and  she 
could  go  to  bed.  Then  she  was  glad  when  the 
morning  arrived,  because  she  was  a  day  nearer  to 
the  end. 

On  a  certain  evening  Dr.  Warren  said  to  his 
wife,  "  She  is  not  so  well  to-day.  When  I  called 
I  found  her  looking  pale  and  anxious.  When  I 
commented  on  the  fact  and  asked  how  she  was, 
she  said  that  she  had  had  a  disappointment.  She 
had  been  expecting  an  important  letter  by  a  mail 
arriving  yesterday,  and  it  had  not  come.  She  was 
evidently  in  low  spirits." 

"  Perhaps  she  has  kept  up  her  spirits  before 
because  she  believed  the  letter  would  come,"  Mrs. 
Warren  speculated. 

"  She  has  certainly  believed  it  would  come." 

"  Do  you  think  it  will,  Harold  ?  " 

"  She  thinks  it  will  yet.     She  was  pathetically 


366  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

anxious  not  to  be  impatient.  She  said  she  knew 
there  were  so  many  reasons  for  delay  when  people 
were  in  foreign  countries  and  very  much  occupied." 

"There  are  many  reasons,  I  daresay,"  said  Mrs. 
Warren  with  a  touch  of  bitterness,  "  but  they  are  not 
usually  the  ones  given  to  waiting,  desperate  women." 

Dr.  Warren  stood  upon  the  hearthrug  and 
gazed  into  the  fire,  knitting  his  brows. 

"  She  wanted  to  tell  or  ask  me  something  this 
afternoon,"  he  said,  "  but  she  was  afraid.  She 
looked  like  a  good  child  in  great  trouble.  I  think 
she  will  speak  before  long." 

She  looked  more  and  more  like  a  good  child  in 
trouble  as  time  passed.  Mail  after  mail  came  in, 
and  she  received  no  letter.  She  did  not  under 
stand,  and  her  fresh  colour  died  away.  She  spent 
her  time  now  in  inventing  reasons  for  the  non- 
arrival  of  her  letter.  None  of  them  comprised 
explanations  which  could  be  disparaging  in  any 
sense  to  Walderhurst.  Chiefly  she  clung  to  the 
fact  that  he  had  not  been  well.  Anything  could 
be  considered  a  reason  for  neglecting  letter  writing 
if  a  man  was  not  well.  If  his  illness  had  become 
serious  she  would,  of  course,  have  heard  from 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  367 

his  doctor.  She  would  not  allow  herself  to  con 
template  that.  But  if  he  was  languid  and  feverish, 
he  might  so  easily  put  off  writing  from  day  to 
day.  This  was  all  the  more  plausible  as  a  reason, 
since  he  had  not  been  a  profuse  correspondent. 
He  had  only  written  when  he  had  found  he  had 
leisure,  with  decent  irregularity,  so  to  speak. 

At  last,  however,  on  a  day  when  she  had  felt 
the  strain  of  waiting  greater  than  she  had  courage 
for,  and  had  counted  every  moment  of  the  hour 
which  must  elapse  before  Jane  could  return  from 
her  mission  of  inquiry,  as  she  rested  on  the  sofa  she 
heard  the  girl  mount  the  stairs  with  a  step  whose 
hastened  lightness  wakened  in  her  an  excited  hope 
fulness. 

She  sat  up  with  brightened  face  and  eager  eyes. 
How  foolish  she  had  been  to  fret.  Now  —  now 
everything  would  be  different.  Ah  !  how  thankful 
she  v/as  to  God  for  being  so  good  to  her  ! 

"  I  think  you  must  have  a  letter,  Jane,"  she  said 
the  moment  the  door  opened.  "  I  felt  it  when  I 
heard  your  footstep." 

Jane  was  touching  in  her  glow  of  relief  and  affec 
tion. 


368  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  Yes,  my  lady,  I  have,  indeed.  And  they  said 
at  the  bank  that  it  had  come  by  a  steamer  that  was 
delayed  by  bad  weather." 

Emily  took  the  letter.  Her  hand  shook,  but  it 
was  with  pleasure.  She  forgot  Jane,  and  actually 
kissed  the  envelope  before  she  opened  it.  It  looked 
like  a  beautiful,  long  letter.  It  was  quite  thick. 

But  when  she  had  opened  it,  she  saw  that  the 
letter  itself  was  not  very  long.  Several  extra  sheets 
of  notes  or  instructions,  it  did  not  matter  what, 
seemed  to  be  enclosed.  Her  hand  shook  so  that 
she  let  them  fall  on  the  floor.  She  looked  so 
agitated  that  Jane  was  afraid  to  do  more  than  retire 
discreetly  and  stand  outside  the  door. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  congratulated  herself  on 
the  wisdom  of  not  having  gone  downstairs.  She 
heard  a  troubled  exclamation  of  wonder,  and  then  a 
call  for  herself. 

"  Jane,  please,  Jane  !  " 

Lady  Walderhurst  was  still  sitting  upon  the  sofa, 
but  she  looked  pale  and  unsteady.  The  letter  was  in 
her  hand,  which  rested  weakly  in  her  lap.  It  seemed 
as  if  she  was  so  bewildered  that  she  felt  helpless. 

She  spoke  in  a  tired  voice. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  369 

"Jane,"  she  said,  "  I  think  you  will  have  to  get 
me  a  glass  of  wine.  I  don't  think  I  am  going  to 
faint,  but  I  do  feel  so  —  so  upset." 

Jane  was  at  her  side  kneeling  by  her. 

"  Please,  my  lady,  lie  down,"  she  begged. 
"Please  do." 

But  she  did  not  lie  down.  She  sat  trembling  and 
looking  at  the  girl  in  a  pathetic,  puzzled  fashion. 

"  I  don't  think,"  she  quavered,  "  that  his  lordship 
can  have  received  my  letter.  He  cant  have  received 
it.  He  does  n't  say  anything.  He  does  n't  say  one 
word—" 

She  had  been  too  healthy  a  woman  to  be  sub 
ject  to  attacks  of  nerves.  She  had  never  fainted 
before  in  her  life,  and  as  she  spoke  she  did  not  at 
all  understand  why  Jane  seemed  to  move  up  and 
down,  and  darkness  came  on  suddenly  in  the  middle 
of  the  morning. 

Jane  managed  by  main  strength  to  keep  her  from 
falling  from  the  sofa,  and  thanked  Providence  for  the 
power  vouchsafed  to  her.  She  reached  the  bell  and 
rang  it  violently,  and  hearing  it,  Mrs.  Cupp  came 
upstairs  with  heavy  swiftness. 


ATURALLY  a  perceptive 
and  closely  reasoning  woman, 
Mrs.  Warren's  close  intel 
lectual  intimacy  with  her 
husband  had,  in  giving  her 
the  benefit  of  intercourse 
with  a  wide  experience,  added  greatly  to  her 
power  of  reasoning  by  deduction.  Warren  fre 
quently  felt  that  his  talk  with  her  was  some 
thing  like  consultation  with  a  specially  clever  and 
sympathetic  professional  confrere.  Her  sugges 
tions  or  conclusions  were  invariably  worth  con 
sideration.  More  than  once  his  reflection  upon 
them  had  led  him  to  excellent  results.  She  made 
one  night  a  suggestion  with  regard  to  the  Extraor 
dinary  Case  which  struck  him  as  being  more  than 
usually  astute. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  371 

"  Is  she  an  intellectual  woman  ?  "   she  inquired. 

"  Not  in  the  least.  An  unsparingly  brilliant 
person  might  feel  himself  entitled  to  the  right  to 
call  her  stupid." 

"  Is  she  talkative  ?  " 

"  Far  from  it.  One  of  her  charms  is  the  nice 
respect  she  seems  to  feel  for  the  remarks  of 
others." 

"  And  she  is  not  excitable  ?  " 

"  Rather  the  reverse.  If  excitability  is  liveliness, 
she  is  dull." 

"  I  see,"  slowly,  "  you  have  not  yet  thought  it 
possible  that  she  might  —  well  —  be  under  some 
delusion." 

Warren  turned  quickly  and  looked  at  her. 

"It  is  wonderfully  brilliant  of  you  to  have 
thought  of  it.  A  delusion  ? "  He  stood  and 
thought  it  over. 

"  Do  you  remember,"  his  wife  assisted  him 
with,  u  the  complications  which  arose  from  young 
Mrs.  Jerrold's  running  away,  under  similar  cir- 
cumstamces,  to  Scotland  and  hiding  herself  in  a 
shepherd's  cottage  under  the  impression  that  her 
husband  was  shadowing  her  with  detectives  ?  You 


372  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

recollect  what  a  lovable  woman  she  was,  and  what 

horror  she  felt  of  the  poor  fellow." 

"Yes,  yes.    That  was  an  Extraordinary  Case  too." 

Mrs.  Warren  warmed  with  her  subject. 

"  Here  is  a  woman  obviously  concealing  herself 
from  the  world  in  a  lodging-house,  plainly  possess 
ing  money,  owning  a  huge  ruby  ring,  receiving 
documents  stamped  with  imposing  seals,  taking 
exercise  only  by  night,  heart-wrung  over  the 
non-arrival  of  letters  which  are  due.  Every  detail 
points  to  one  painful,  dubious  situation.  On  the 
other  hand,  she  presents  to  you  the  manner  and 
aspect  of  a  woman  who  is  absolutely  not  dubious, 
and  who  is  merely  anxious  on  the  one  point  a 
dubious  person  would  be  indifferent  to.  Is  n't  it, 
then,  possible  that  over-wrought  physical  condition 
may  have  driven  her  to  the  belief  that  she  is  hiding 
from  danger." 

Dr.  Warren  was  evidently  following  the  thought 
seriously. 

"  She  said,"  reflecting,  "  that  all  that  mattered 
was  that  she  should  be  safe.  '  I  want  to  keep 
safe.'  That  was  it.  You  are  very  enlightening, 
Mary,  always.  I  will  go  and  see  her  again  to- 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  373 

morrow.      But,"  as  the  result  of  another  memory, 
"  how  sane  she  seems  !  " 

He  was  thinking  of  this  possible  aspect  of  the 
matter  as  he  mounted  the  staircase  of  the  house  in 
Mortimer  Street  the  next  day.  The  stairway  was 
of  the  ordinary  lodging-house  ty^e,  its  dinginess 
somewhat  alleviated  by  the  fact  that  the  Cupps 
had  covered  the  worn  carpet  with  clean  warm- 
coloured  felting.  The  yellowish  marbled  paper 
on  the  walls  depressed  the  mind  as  one  passed  it ; 
the  indeterminate  dun  paint  had  defied  fog  for 
years.  The  whole  house  presented  only  such 
features  as  would  encourage  its  proprietors  to  trust 
to  the  sufficing  of  infrequent  re-decoration. 

Jane  had,  however,  made  efforts  in  behalf  of 
the  drawing-room,  in  which  her  mistress  spent  her 
days.  She  had  introduced  palliations  by  degrees 
and  with  an  unobtrusiveness  which  was  not  likely 
to  attract  the  attention  of  neighbours  unaccustomed 
to  lavish  delivery  by  means  of  furniture  vans. 
She  had  brought  in  a  rug  or  so,  and  had  gradually 
replaced  objects  with  such  as  were  more  pleasant 
to  live  with  and  more  comfortable  to  use.  Dr. 


374  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

Warren  had  seen  the  change  wrought,  and  had 
noted  evidences  that  money  was  not  unobtainable. 
The  maid  also  was  a  young  woman  whose  manner 
towards  her  mistress  was  not  merely  respectful  and 
well-bred,  but  suggestive  of  watchful  affection  bor 
dering  on  reverence.  Jane  Cupp  herself  was  a 
certificate  of  decorum  and  good  standing.  It  was 
not  such  young  women  who  secluded  themselves 
with  questionable  situations.  As  she  laid  her  hand 
on  the  drawing-room  door  to  open  it  and  announce 
him,  it  occurred  to  Dr.  Warren  that  he  would  tell 
Mary  that  evening  that  if  Mrs.  Jameson  had  been 
the  heroine  of  any  unconventional  domestic  drama 
it  was  an  unmistakable  fact  that  Jane  Cupp  would 
have  "  felt  it  her  duty  as  a  young  woman  to  leav 
this  day  month,  if  you  please,  ma'am,"  quite  six 
months  ago.  And  there  she  was,  in  a  neat  gown 
and  apron,  —  evidently  a  fixture  because  she  liked 
her  place, —  her  decent  young  face  full  of  sympa 
thetic  interest. 

The  day  was  dull  and  cold,  but  the  front  rcom 
was  warm  and  made  cheerful  by  fire.  Mrs.  Jame 
son  was  sitting  at  a  writing-table.  There  were 
letters  before  her,  and  she  seemed  to  have  been 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  375 

re-reading  them.  She  did  not  any  longer  bloom 
with  normal  health.  Her  face  was  a  little  dragged, 
and  the  first  thing  he  noted  in  the  eyes  she  lifted 
to  him  was  that  they  were  bewildered. 

"  She  has  had  a  shock,"  he  thought.  "  Poor 
woman  !  " 

He  began  to  talk  to  her  about  herself  with  the 
kindly  perception  which  was  inseparable  from  him. 
He  wondered  if  the  time  had  not  come  when  she 
would  confide  in  him.  Her  shock,  whatsoever 
it  had  been,  had  left  her  in  the  position  of  a 
woman  wholly  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  what  had 
occurred.  He  saw  this  in  her  ingenuous  troubled 
face.  He  felt  as  if  she  was  asking  herself  what 
she  should  do.  It  was  not  unlikely  that  presently 
she  would  ask  him  what  she  should  do.  He  had 
been  asked  such  things  before  by  women,  but  they 
usually  added  trying  detail  accompanied  by  sobs, 
and  appealed  to  his  chivalry  for  impossible  aid. 
Sometimes  they  implored  him  to  go  to  people  and 
use  his  influence. 

Emily  answered  all  his  questions  with  her  usual 
sweet,  good  sense.  She  was  not  well.  Yesterday 
she  had  fainted. 


376  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  Was  there  any  disturbing  reason  for  the 
faint  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  It  was  because  I  was  —  very  much  disap 
pointed,"  she  answered,  hesitating.  "  I  had  a  let 
ter  which  —  It  was  not  what  I  expected." 

She  was  thinking  desperately.  She  could  under 
stand  nothing.  It  was  not  explainable  that  what 
she  had  written  did  not  matter  at  all,  that  James 
should  have  made  no  reply. 

"  I  was  awake  all  night,"  she  added. 

"  That  must  not  go  on,"  he  said. 

"  I  was  thinking —  and  thinking,"  nervously. 

"  I  can  see  that,"  was  his  answer. 

Perhaps  she  ought  to  have  courage  to  say  noth 
ing.  It  might  be  safer.  But  it  was  so  lonely  not 
to  dare  to  ask  anyone's  advice,  that  she  was  getting 
frightened.  India  was  thousands  and  thousands 
of  miles  away,  and  letters  took  so  long  to  come 
and  go.  Anxiety  might  make  her  ill  before  she 
could  receive  a  reply  to  a  second  letter.  And 
perhaps  now  in  her  terror  she  had  put  herself  into 
a  ridiculous  position.  How  could  she  send  for 
Lady  Maria  to  Mortimer  Street  and  explain  to 
her  ?  She  realised  also  that  her  ladyship's  sense 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  377 

of  humour  might  not  be  a  thing  to  confide  in 
safely. 

Warren's  strong,  amiable  personality  was  good 
for  her.  It  served  to  aid  her  to  normal  reasoning. 
Though  she  was  not  aware  of  the  fact,  her  fears, 
her  simplicity,  and  her  timorous  adoration  of  her 
husband  had  not  allowed  her  to  reason  normally  in 
the  past.  She  had  been  too  anxious  and  too  much 
afraid. 

Her  visitor  watched  her  with  great  interest  and 
no  little  curiosity.  He  himself  saw  that  her  mood 
was  not  normal.  She  did  not  look  as  poor  Mrs. 
Jerrold  had  looked,  but  she  was  not  in  a  normal 
state. 

He  made  his  visit  a  long  one  purposely.  Tea 
was  brought  up,  and  he  drank  it  with  her.  He 
wanted  to  give  her  time  to  make  up  her  mind 
about  him.  When  at  last  he  rose  to  go  away,  she 
rose  also.  She  looked  nervously  undecided,  but 
let  him  go  towards  the  door. 

Her  move  forward  was  curiously  sudden. 

"  No,  no,"  she  said.  "  Please  come  back.  I 
—  oh! — I  really  think  I  ought  to  tell  you." 

He  turned  towards  her,  wishing  that  Mary  were 


378  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

with  him.     She  stood  trying  to  smile,  and  looking 

so   entirely   nice    and    well-behaved    even    in    her 

agitation. 

"  If  I  were  not  so  puzzled,  or  if  there  was  any 
body  —  "  she  said.  "  If  you  could  only  advise  me  ; 
I  must  —  I  must  keep  safe." 

"  There  is  something  you  want  to  tell  me  ?  "  he 
said  quietly. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered.  "  I  am  so  anxious,  and 
I  am  sure  it  must  be  bad  for  one  to  be  anxious 
always.  I  have  not  dared  to  tel!4anyone.  My 
name  is  not  Mrs.  Jameson,  Dr.  Warren.  I  am 
—  I  am  Lady  Walderhurst." 

He  barely  managed  to  restrain  a  start.  He 
was  obliged  to  admit  to  himself  that  he  had  not 
thought  of  anything  like  this.  But  Mary  had 
been  right. 

Emily  blushed  to  her  ears  with  embarrassment. 
He  did  not  believe  her. 

"  But  I  am  really,"  she  protested.  "  I  really 
am.  I  was  married  last  year.  I  was  Emily  Fox- 
Seton.  Perhaps  you  remember." 

She  was  not  flighty  or  indignant.  Her  frank 
face  was  only  a  little  more  troubled  than  it  had 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  379 

been  before.  She  looked  straight  into  his  eyes 
without  a  doubt  of  his  presently  believing  her. 
Good  heavens  !  if — 

She  walked  to  the  writing-table  and  picked  up  a 
number  of  letters.  They  were  all  stamped  with 
the  same  seal.  She  brought  them  to  him  almost 
composedly. 

"  I   ought  to  have   remembered   how   strange  it 

O  o 

would    sound,"   she   said    in    her   amenable    voice. 
"  I  hope  I   am   not   doing  wrong  in   speaking.      I 
hope    you    won't    mind    my    troubling    you.       It 
seemed  as  if  I  couldn't  bear  it  alone  any  longer." 
After  which  she  told  him  her  story. 

The  unadorned  straightforwardness  of  the  re 
lation  made  it  an  amazing  thing  to  hear,  even 
more  amazing  than  it  would  have  been  made  by 
a  more  imaginative  handling.  Her  obvious  inabil 
ity  to  cope  with  the  unusual  and  villainous,  com 
bined  with  her  entire  willingness  to  obliterate 
herself  in  any  manner  in  her  whole-souled  tender 
ness  for  the  one  present  object  of  her  existence, 
were  things  a  man  could  not  be  unmoved  by,  even 
though  experience  led  him  to  smile  at  the  lack 


380  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

of  knowledge  of  the  world  which  had  left  her  with 
out  practical  defence.  Her  very  humbleness  and 
candour  made  her  a  drama  in  herself. 

"  Perhaps  I  was  wrong  to  run  away.  Perhaps 
only  a  silly  woman  would  have  done  such  a  queer, 
unconventional  thing.  But  I  could  think  of  noth 
ing  else  so  likely  to  be  quite  safe,  until  Lord 
Walderhurst  could  advise  me.  And  when  his 
letter  came  yesterday,  and  he  did  not  speak  of 
what  I  had  said  — "  Her  voice  quite  failed 
her. 

"  Captain  Osborn  has  detained  your  letter. 
Lord  Walderhurst  has  not  seen  it." 

Life  began  to  come  back  to  her.  She  had  been 
so  horribly  bewildered  as  to  think  at  moments  that 
perhaps  it  might  be  that  a  man  who  was  very 
much  absorbed  in  affairs  — 

"  The  information  you  sent  him  is  the  most 
important,  and  moving,  a  man  in  his  position 
could  receive." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  really  ?  "  She  lifted  her 
head  with  new  courage  and  her  colour  returned. 

"  It  is  impossible  that  it  should  be  otherwise.  It 
is,  I  assure  you,  impossible.  Lady  Walderhurst." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  381 

"  I  am  so  thankful,"  she  said  devoutly.     "  I  am 

so  thankful  that  I  have  told  you." 

Anything  more  touching  and  attractive  than  her 

full  eyes  and  her  grown-up  child's  smile  he  felt  he 

had  never  seen. 


HE  attack  of  fever  which 
had  seemed  to  begin  lightly 
for  Lord  Walderhurst  as 
sumed  proportions  such  as 
his  medical  man  had  not 
anticipated.  His  annoy 
ance  at  finding  his  duties 
interfered  with  fretted  him  greatly.  He  was 
not,  under  the  circumstances,  a  good  patient, 
and,  partly  as  a  result  of  his  state  of  mind,  he 
began,  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  to  give  his 
doctors  rather  serious  cause  for  anxiety.  On  the 
morning  following  Emily's  confession  to  Dr. 
Warren  she  had  received  a  letter  from  her  hus 
band's  physician,  notifying  her  of  his  new  anxie 
ties  in  connection  with  his  patient.  His  lordship 
required  extreme  care  and  absolute  freedom  from 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  383 

all  excitement.  Everything  which  medical  science 
and  perfect  nursing  could  do  would  be  done. 
The  writer  asked  Lady  Walderhurst's  collabora 
tion  with  him  in  his  efforts  at  keeping  the  in 
valid  as  far  as  possible  in  imperturbed  spirits. 
For  some  time  it  seemed  probable  that  letter 
writing  and  reading  would  be  out  of  the  question, 
but  if,  when  correspondence  might  be  resumed, 
Lady  Walderhurst  would  keep  in  mind  the  im 
portance  of  serenity  to  the  convalescent,  the  case 
would  have  all  in  its  favour.  This,  combined 
with  expressions  of  sympathetic  encouragement 
and  assurances  that  the  best  might  be  hoped  for, 
was  the  gist  of  the  letter.  When  Dr.  Warren 
arrived,  Emily  handed  the  epistle  to  him  and 
watched  him  as  he  read  it. 

"  You  see,"  she  said  when  he  looked  up,  "  that 
I  did  not  speak  too  soon.  Now  I  shall  have  to 
trust  to  you  for  everything.  I  could  never  have 
borne  it  all  by  myself.  -  Could  I  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  not,"  thinking  it  over ;  "  but  you  are 
Very  brave." 

"  I  don't  think  I  'm  brave,"  thinking  it  over 
on  her  own  part,  "  but  it  seemed  as  if  there 


384  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

were  things  I  must  do.     But  now  you  will  advise 

me." 

She  was  as  biddable  as  a  child,  he  told  his  wife 
afterwards,  and  that  a  woman  of  her  height  and 
carriage  should  be  as  biddable  as  she  might  have 
been  at  six  years  old,  was  an  effective  thing. 

"  She  will  do  anything  I  tell  her,  she  will  go 
anywhere  I  advise.  I  advise  that  she  shall  go  to 
her  husband's  house  in  Berkeley  Square,  and  that 
together  you  and  I  will  keep  unobtrusive  guard 
over  her.  All  is  quite  simple,  really.  All  would 
have  been  comparatively  simple  at  the  outset,  if 
she  had  felt  sure  enough  of  her  evidence  to  dare 
to  confide  in  some  practical  person.  But  she  was 
too  uncertain  and  too  much  afraid  of  scandal, 
which  might  annoy  her  husband.  She  is  deeply 
in  awe  of  Lord  Walderhurst  and  deeply  in  love 
with  him." 

"  When  one  realises  how  unnecessary  qualities 
and  charms  seem  to  be  to  the  awakening  of  the 
tender  emotion,  it  is  rather  dull,  perhaps,  to  ask 
why.  Yet  one  weakly  asks  it,"  was  Mrs.  War 
ren's  summation. 

"  And  one  cannot  supply  the  answer.     But  the 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  385 

mere  devotion  itself  in  this  nice  creature  is  a  thing 
to  be  respected.  She  will  control  even  her  anxie 
ties  and  reveal  nothing  while  she  writes  her  cheer 
ful  letters,  as  soon  as  she  is  allowed  to  write 
them." 

"  Lord  Walderhurst  will  be  told  nothing  ?  " 
"  Nothing  until  his  recovery  is  complete.  Now 
that  she  has  made  a  clean  breast  of  everything  to 
me  and  given  herself  into  my  hands,  I  believe  that 
she  finds  a  sentimental  pleasure  in  the  thought  of 
keeping  her  secret  until  he  returns.  I  will  confess 
to  you,  Mary,  that  I  think  that  she  has  read  of  and 
tenderly  sympathised  with  heroines  who  have  done 
the  like  before.  She  does  not  pose  to  herself  as  a 
heroine,  but  she  dwells  affectionately  on  ingenuous 
mental  pictures  of  what  Lord  Walderhurst  will  say. 
It  is  just  as  well  that  it  should  be  so.  It  is  better 
for  her  than  fretting  would  be.  Experience  helped 
me  to  gather  from  the  medical  man's  letter  that  his 
patient  is  in  no  condition  to  be  told  news  of  any 
kind,  good  or  bad." 

The  house  in  Berkeley  Square  was  reopened. 
Lady  Walderhurst  returned  to  it,  as  it  was  under 
stood  below  stairs,  from  a  visit  to  some  German 


386  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

health  resort.  Mrs.  Cupp  and  Jane  returned  with 
her.  The  wife  of  her  physician  in  attendance  was 
with  her  a  great  deal.  It  was  most  unfortunate  for 
her  ladyship  that  my  lord  was  detained  in  India  by 
illness. 

The  great  household,  having  presented  opened 
shutters  to  the  world,  went  on  in  the  even  tenor  of 
its  way.  There  brooded  over  it,  however,  a  sort 
of  hushed  dignity  of  atmosphere.  The  very  house 
maids  wore  an  air  of  grave  discretion.  Their 
labours  assumed  the  proportions  of  confidential 
interested  service,  in  which  they  felt  a  private  pride. 
Not  one  among  them  had  escaped  becoming  attached 
to  Lady  Walderhurst. 

Away  from  Palstrey,  away  from  Mortimer  Street, 
Emily  began  to  find  reality  in  the  fact  that  every 
thing  had  already  become  quite  simple,  after  all. 
The  fine  rooms  looked  so  well  ordered  and  decent 
in  a  stately  way.  Melodramatic  plotting  ceased  to 
exist  as  she  looked  at  certain  dignified  sofas  and 
impressive  candelabra.  Such  things  became  even 
more  impossible  than  they  had  become  before  the 
convincingness  of  the  first  floor  front  bedroom  in 
Mortimer  Street.  She  began  to  give  a  good  deal 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  387 

of  thought  to  the  summer  at  Mallowe.  There  was 
an  extraordinary  luxury  in  living  again  each  day  of 
it,  the  morning  when  she  had  taken  the  third-class 
carriage  which  provided  her  with  hot,  labouring  men 
in  corduroys  as  companions,  that  fleeting  moment 
when  the  tall  man  with  the  square  face  had  passed 
the  carnage  and  looked  straight  through  her  without 
seeming  to  see  her  at  all.  She  sat  and  smiled  ten 
derly  at  the  mere  reminiscent  thought.  And  then 
the  glimpse  of  him  as  he  got  into  the  high  phaeton 
at  the  station  ;  and  the  moment  when  Lady  Maria 
had  exclaimed  "  There  's  Walderhurst,"  and  he  had 
come  swinging  with  his  leisurely  step  across  the 
lawn.  And  he  had  scarcely  seemed  to  see  her  then, 
or  notice  her  really  when  they  met,  until  the 
morning  he  had  joined  her  as  she  gathered  the  roses 
and  had  talked  to  her  about  Lady  Agatha.  But  he 
had  actually  been  noticing  her  a  little  even  from  the 
first  — he  had  been  thinking  about  her  a  little  all  the 
time.  And  how  far  she  had  been  from  guessing  it 
when  she  had  talked  to  Lady  Agatha,  how  pleased 
she  had  been  the  morning  of  the  rose  gathering 
when  he  had  seemed  interested  only  in  Agatha's 
self!  She  always  liked  to  recall,  however,  the  way  ) 


388  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

in  which  he  had  asked  the  few  questions  about 
her  own  affairs.  Her  simplicity  never  wearied  of 
the  fascination  of  the  way  in  which  he  had  looked 
at  her,  standing  on  the  pathway,  with  that  delight 
ful  non-committal  fixing  of  her  with  the  monocle 
when  she  had  said : 

"  People  are  kind.  You  see,  I  have  nothing  to 
give,  and  I  always  seem  to  be  receiving." 

And  he  had  gazed  at  her  quite  unmovedly  and 
answered  only  : 

«  What  luck  !  " 

But  since  then  he  had  mentioned  this  moment 
as  one  of  those  in  which  he  had  felt  that  he  might 
want  to  marry  her,  because  she  was  so  unconscious 
of  the  fact  that  she  gave  much  more  to  every 
body  than  she  received,  that  she  had  so  much 
to  give  and  was  totally  unaware  of  the  value  of 
her  gifts. 

"  His  thoughts  of  me  are  so  beautiful  very  often," 
was  her  favourite  reflection,  "  though  he  always 
has  that  composed  way  of  saying  things.  What 
he  says  seems  more  valuable^  because  he  is  like 
that." 

In  truth,  his  composed  way  of  saying  things  it 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  389 

was  which  seemed  to  her  incomparable.  Even 
when,  without  understanding  its  own  longing  for 
a  thing  it  lacked,  her  heart  had  felt  itself  a  little 

O 

unsustained  she  had  never  ceased  to  feel  the  fasci 
nation  of  his  entire  freedom  from  any  shadow  of 
interest  in  the  mental  attitude  of  others  towards 
himself.  When  he  stood  and  gazed  at  people 
through  the  glass  neatly  screwed  into  his  eye,  one 
felt  that  it  was  he  whose  opinion  was  of  impor 
tance,  not  the  other  person's.  Through  sheer  chill 
imperviousness  he  seemed  entirely  detached  from 
the  powers  of  criticism.  What  people  said  or 
thought  of  his  fixed  opinion  on  a  subject  was  not 
of  the  least  consequence,  in  fact  did  not  exist ;  the 
entities  of  the  persons  who  cavilled  at  such  opinions 
themselves  ceased  to  exist,  so  far  as  he  was  con 
cerned.  His  was  the  immovable  temperament. 
He  did  not  snub  people  :  he  cut  the  cord  of  mental 
communication  with  them  and  dropped  them  into 
space.  Emily  thought  this  firmness  and  reserved 
dignity,  and  quailed  before  the  thought  of  erring  in 
such  a  manner  as  would  cause  him  to  so  send  her 
soul  adrift.  Her  greatest  terror  during  the  past 
months  had  been  the  fear  of  making  him  ridiculous, 


390  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

of  putting  him  in  some  position  which  might  annoy 

him  by  objectionable  publicity. 

But  now  she  had  no  further  fears,  and  could  wait 
in  safety  and  dwell  in  peace  upon  her  memories 
and  her  hopes.  She  even  began  to  gain  a  kind  of 
courage  in  her  thoughts  of  him. 

The  atmosphere  of  the  Berkeley  Square  mansion 
wras  good  for  her.  She  had  never  felt  so  much  its 
mistress  before  the  staff  of  servants  of  whose  ex 
istence  she  was  the  centre,  who  so  plainly  served 
her  with  careful  pleasure,  who  considered  her  least 
wish  or  inclination  as  a  roval  command,  increased 
her  realisation  of  her  security  and  power.  The 
Warrens,  who  understood  the  dignity  and  meaning 
of  mere  worldly  facts  her  nature  did  not  grasp, 
added  subtly  to  her  support.  Gradually  she  learned 
to  reveal  herself  in  simple  talk  to  Mrs.  Warren, 
who  found  her,  when  so  revealed,  a  case  more 
extraordinary  than  she  had  been  when  enshrouded 
in  dubious  mystery, 

"  She  is  absolutely  delicious,"  Mrs.  Warren  said 
to  her  husband.  "  That  an  adoration  such  as  hers 
could  exist  in  the  nineteenth  century  is  —  " 

"  Almost  degenerate,"  he  laughed. 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  391 

"  Perhaps  it  is  regenerate,"  reflecting.  "  Who 
knows !  Nothing  earthly,  or  heavenly,  would 
induce  me  to  cast  a  doubt  upon  it.  Seated  oppo 
site  to  a  portrait  of  her  James,  I  hear  her  opinions 
of  him,  when  she  is  not  in  the  least  aware  of 
what  her  simplest  observation  conveys.  She  does 
not  know  that  she  is  including  him  when  she  is 
talking  of  other  things,  that  one  sees  that  while 
she  is  too  shy  to  openly  use  his  name  much,  the 
very  breath  of  her  life  is  a  reference  to  him.  Her 
greatest  bliss  at  present  is  to  go  unobtrusively  into 
his  special  rooms  and  sit  there  dwelling  upon  his 
goodness  to  her." 

In  fact  Emily  spent  many  a  quiet  hour  in  the 
apartments  she  had  visited  on  the  day  of  her 
farewell  to  her  husband.  She  was  very  happy 
there.  Her  soul  was  uplifted  by  her  gratitude 
for  the  peace  she  had  reached.  The  reports 
of  Lord  Walderhurst's  physician  were  never 
alarming  and  generally  of  a  reassuring  nature. 
But  she  knew  that  he  must  exercise  great  cau 
tion,  and  that  time  must  elapse  before  he  could 
confront  his  return  voyage.  He  would  come 
back  as  soon  as  was  quite  safe.  And  in  the 


392  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

meantime  her  world  held  all  that  she  could  desire, 

lacking  himself. 

Her  emotion  expressed  itself  in  her  earnest  per 
formance  of  her  reverent  daily  devotions.  She 
read  many  chapters  of  the  Bible,  and  often  sat 
happily  absorbed  in  the  study  of  her  Book  of 
Common  Prayer.  She  found  solace  and  hap 
piness  in  such  things,  and  spent  her  Sunday 
mornings,  after  the  ringing  of  the  church  bells, 
quite  alone  in  Walderhurst's  study,  following  the 
Service  and  reading  the  Collects  and  Lessons. 
The  room  used  to  seem  so  beautifully  still, 
even  Berkeley  Square  wearing  its  church-hour 
aspect  suggested  devout  aloofness  from  worldly 
things. 

"  I  sit  at  the  window  and  think"  she  explained 
to  Mrs.  Warren.  "  It  is  so  nice  there." 

She  wrote  her  letters  to  India  in  this  room. 
She  did  not  know  how  far  the  new  courage  in  her 
thoughts  of  her  husband  expressed  itself  in  these 
letters.  When  Walderhurst  read  them,  however, 
he  felt  a  sense  of  change  in  her.  Women  were 
sometimes  spoken  of  as  "  coming  out  amazingly." 
He  began  to  feel  that  Emilv  was,  in  a  measure  at 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  393 

least,  "  coming  out."  Perhaps  her  gradually  in 
creasing  feeling  of  accustomedness  to  the  change 
in  her  life  was  doing  it  for  her.  She  said  more  in 
her  letters,  and  said  it  in  a  more  interesting  way. 
It  was  perhaps  rather  suggestive  of  the  develop 
ment  of  a  girl  who  was  on  the  verge  of  becoming 
a  delightful  sort  of  woman. 

Lying  upon  his  back  in  bed,  rendered,  it  may 
be,  a  trifle  susceptible  by  the  weakness  of  slow 
convalescence,  he  found  a  certain  habit  growing 
upon  him  —  a  habit  of  reading  her  letters  several 
times,  and  of  thinking  of  her  as  it  had  not  been  his 
nature  to  think  of  women ;  also  he  slowly  awak 
ened  to  an  interest  in  the  arrival  of  the  English 
mails.  The  letters  actually  raised  his  spirits  and 
had  an  excellent  physical  effect.  His  doctor  al 
ways  found  him  in  good  condition  after  he  had 
heard  from  his  wife. 

"Your  letters,  my  dear  Emily,"  Walderhurst 
once  wrote,  "  are  a  great  pleasure  to  me.  You 
are  to-day  exactly  as  you  were  at  Mallowe,  —  the 
creature  of  amiable  good  cheer.  Your  comfort 
stimulates  me." 

"How  dear,  how  dear?"  Emily   cried   to   the 


394  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

silence   of  the  study,  and    kissed   the   letter  with 

impassioned  happiness. 

The  next  epistle  went  even  farther.  It  abso 
lutely  contained  "  things  "  and  referred  to  the  past 
which  it  was  her  joy  to  pour  libations  before  in 
secret  thought.  When  her  eye  caught  the  phrase 
"the  days  at  Mallowe  "  in  the  middle  of  a  sheet, 
she  was  almost  frightened  at  the  rush  of  pleas 
ure  which  swept  over  her.  Men  who  were 
less  aloof  from  sentimental  moods  used  such 
phrases  in  letters,  she  had  read  and  heard.  It 
was  almost  as  if  he  had  said  "  the  dear  old  days 
at  Mallowe "  or  u  the  happy  days  at  Mallowe," 
and  the  rapture  of  it  was  as  much  as  she  could 
bear. 

"  I  cannot  help  remembering  as  I  lie  here,"  she 
read  in  actual  letters  as  she  went  on,  "  of  the  many 
thoughts  which  passed  through  my  mind  as  I  drove 
over  the  heath  to  pick  you  up.  I  had  been  watch 
ing  you  for  days.  I  always  liked  particularly  your 
clear,  large  eyes.  I  recall  trying  to  describe  them 
to  myself  and  finding  it  difficult.  They  seemed  to 
me  then  to  resemble  something  between  the  eyes 
of  a  very  nice  boy  and  the  eyes  of  a  delightful 


Lady    Maria    Bayne 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  395 

sheep-dog.  This  may  not  appear  so  romantic  a 
comparison  as  it  really  is." 

Emily  began  most  softly  and  sweetly  to  cry. 
Nothing  more  romantic  could  she  possibly  have 
imagined. 

"  I  thought  of  them  in  spite  of  myself  as  I  drove 
across  the  moor,  and  I  could  scarcely  express  to 
you  how  angry  I  was  at  Maria.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  she  had  brutally  imposed  on  you  only  because 
she  had  known  she  might  impose  on  a  woman 
with  such  a  pair  of  eyes.  I  was  angry  and  senti 
mental  at  one  and  the  same  time.  And  to  find 
you  sitting  by  the  wayside,  absolutely  worn  out 
with  fatigue  and  in  tears,  moved  me  really  more 
than  I  had  anticipated  being  moved.  And  when 
you  mistook  my  meaning  and  stood  up,  your  nice 
eyes  looking  into  mine  in  such  ingenuous  appeal 
and  fear  and  trouble,  I  have  never  forgotten  it, 
my  dear,  and  I  never  shall." 

His  mood  of  sentiment  did  not  sit  easily  upon 
him,  but  it  meant  a  real  and  interesting  quite 
human  thing. 

Emily  sat  alone  in  the  room  and  brooded  over 
it  as  a  mother  might  brood  over  a  new-born  child. 


396  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

She  was  full  of  tremulous  bliss,  and,  dwelling  with 
reverent  awe  upon  the  wonder  of  great  things 
drawing  nearer  to  her  every  hour,  wept  for 
happiness  as  she  sat. 

The  same  afternoon  Lady  Maria  Bayne  arrived. 
She  had  been  abroad  taking,  in  no  dull  fashion, 
various  "  cures,"  which  involved  drinking  mineral 
waters  while  promenading  to  the  sounds  of  strains 
of  outdoor  music,  and  comparing  symptoms  wittily 
with  friends  equal  to  amazing  repartee  in  connection 
with  all  subjects. 

Dr.  Warren  was  an  old  acquaintance,  and  as  he 
was  on  the  point  of  leaving  the  house  as  she  en 
tered  it  she  stopped  to  shake  hands  with  him. 

"  It 's  rather  unfortunate  for  a  man  when  one 
can  only  be  glad  to  see  him  in  the  house  of  an 
enemy." 

She  greeted  him  with,  "  I  must  know  what 
you  are  doing  here.  It  's  not  possible  that  Lady 
Walderhurst  is  fretting  herself  into  fiddle-strings 
because  her  husband  chooses  to  have  a  fever  in 
India." 

"  No,  she  is  behaving  beautifully  in  all  respects. 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  397 

May  I  have  a  few  minutes'  talk  with  you,  Lady 
Maria,  before  you  see  her  ?  " 

"  A  few  minutes'  talk  with  me  means  something 
either  amusing  or  portentous.  Let  us  walk  into 
the  morning-room." 

She  led  the  way  with  a  rustle  or  silk  petticoats 
and  a  suggestion  of  lifted  eyebrows.  She  was  in 
clined  to  think  that  the  thing  sounded  more  por 
tentous  than  amusing.  Thank  Heaven !  it  was 
not  possible  for  Emily  to  have  involved  herself  in 
annoying  muddles.  She  was  not  that  kind  of 
woman. 

When  she  came  out  of  the  room  some  twenty 
minutes  later  she  did  not  look  quite  like  herself. 
Her  smart  bonnet  set  less  well  upon  her  delicate 
little  old  face,  and  she  was  agitated  and  cross  and 
pleased. 

"It  was  ridiculous  of  Walderhurst  to  leave  her," 
she  was  saying.  "  It  was  ridiculous  of  her  not  to 
order  him  home  at  once.  It  was  exactly  like  her, 
—  dear  and  ridiculous." 

In  spite  of  her  agitation  she  felt  a  little  grotesque 
as  she  went  upstairs  to  see  Emily, — grotesque, 
because  she  was  obliged  to  admit  to  herself  that  she 


398  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

had  never  felt  so  curiously  excited  in  her  life.  She 
felt  as  she  supposed  women  did  when  they  allowed 
themselves  to  shed  tears  through  excitement ;  not 
that  she  was  shedding  tears,  but  she  was  "upset," 
that  was  what  she  called  it. 

As  the  door  opened  Emily  rose  from  a  chair 
near  the  fire  and  came  slowly  towards  her,  with 
an  awkward  but  lovely  smile. 

Lady  Maria  made  a  quick  movement  forward 
and  caught  hold  of  both  her  hands. 

u  My  good  Emily,"  she  broke  forth  and  kissed 
her.  "  My  excellent  Emily,"  and  kissed  her  again. 
"  I  am  completely  turned  upside  down.  I  never 
heard  such  an  insane  story  in  my  life.  I  have 
seen  Dr.  Warren.  The  creatures  were  mad." 

"  It  is  all  over,"  said  Emily.  "  I  scarcely  be 
lieve  it  was  true  now." 

Lady  Maria  being  led  to  a  sofa  settled  herself 
upon  it,  still  wearing  her  complex  expression  of 
crossness,  agitation,  and  pleasure. 

"  I  am  going  to  stay  here,"  she  said,  obstinately. 
"  There  shall  be  no  more  folly.  But  I  will  tell 
you  that  they  have  gone  back  to  India.  The 
child  was  a  girl." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  It  was  a  girl  ? " 

"  Yes,  absurdly  enough." 

"  Oh,"  sighed  Emily,  sorrowfully.  "  I  'm  sure 
Hester  was  afraid  to  write  to  me." 

"  Rubbish  !  "  said  Lady  Maria.  "  At  any  rate,  as 
I  remarked  before,  I  am  going  to  stay  here  until 
Walderhurst  comes  back.  The  man  will  be  quite 
mad  with  gratified  vanity." 


T  was  a  damp  and  depressing 
day  on  which  Lord  Walder- 
hurst  arrived  in  London.  As 
his  carriage  turned  into 
Berkeley  Square  he  sat  in  the 
corner  of  it  rather  huddled 
in  his  travelling-wraps  and 
looking  pale  and  thin.  He  was  wishing  that 
London  had  chosen  to  show  a  more  exhilarating 
countenance  to  him,  but  he  himself  was  conscious 
of  being  possessed  by  something  more  nearly  ap 
proaching  a  mood  of  eagerness  than  he  remembered 
experiencing  at  any  period  of  his  previous  existence. 
He  had  found  the  voyage  home  long,  and  had  been 
restless.  He  wanted  to  see  his  wife.  How  agree 
able  it  would  be  to  meet,  when  he  looked  across  th? 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  401 

dinner-table,  the  smile  in  her  happy  eyes.  She  would 
grow  pink  with  pleasure,  like  a  girl,  when  he  con 
fessed  that  he  had  missed  her.  He  was  curious  to 
see  in  her  the  changes  he  had  felt  in  her  letters. 
Having  time  and  opportunities  for  development, 
she  might  become  an  absolutely  delightful  com 
panion.  She  had  looked  very  handsome  on  the 
day  of  her  presentation  at  Court.  Her  height  and 
carriage  had  made  her  even  impressive.  She  was 
a  woman,  after  all,  to  be  counted  on  in  one's 
plans. 

But  he  was  most  conscious  that  his  affection  for 
her  had  warmed.  A  slight  embarrassment  was 
commingled  with  the  knowledge,  but  that  was  the 
natural  result  of  his  dislike  to  the  sentimental. 
He  had  never  felt  a  shadow  of  sentiment  for 
Audrey,  who  had  been  an  extremely  light,  dry, 
empty-headed  person,  and  he  had  always  felt  she 
had  been  adroitly  thrust  upon  him  by  their  united 
families.  He  had  not  liked  her,  and  she  had  not 
liked  him.  It  had  been  very  stupidly  trying.  And 
the  child  had  not  lived  an  hour.  He  had  liked 
Emily  from  the  first,  and  now  —  It  was  an  abso 
lute  truth  that  he  felt  a  slight  movement  in  the 


402  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

cardiac  region  when  the  carriage  turned  into 
Berkeley  Square.  The  house  would  look  very 
pleasant  when  he  entered  it.  Emily  would  in 
some  subtle  way  have  arranged  that  it  should  wear 
a  festal,  greeting  air.  She  had  a  number  of  nice, 
little  feminine  emotions  about  bright  fires  and 
many  flowers.  He  could  picture  her  childlike 
grown-up  face  as  it  would  look  when  he  stepped 
into  the  room  where  they  met. 

Some  one  was  ill  in  Berkeley  Square,  evidently 
very  ill.  Straw  was  laid  thick  all  along  one  side 
of  it,  depressing  damp,  fresh  straw,  over  which  the 
carriage  rolled  with  a  dull  drag  of  the  wheels. 

It  lay  before  the  door  of  his  own  house,  he 
observed,  as  he  stepped  out.  It  was  very  thickly 
scattered.  The  door  swung  open  as  the  carriage 
stopped.  Crossing  the  threshold,  he  glanced  at  the 
face  of  the  footman  nearest  to  him.  The  man 
looked  like  a  mute  at  a  funeral,  and  the  expression 
was  so  little  in  accord  with  his  mood  that  he 
stopped  with  a  feeling  of  irritation.  He  had  not 
time  to  speak,  however,  before  a  new  sensation 
arrested  his  attention,  —  a  faint  odour  which  filled 
the  place. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  403 

"  The  house  smells  like  a  hospital,"  he  exclaimed, 
in  great  annoyance.  "  What  does  it  mean  ? " 

The  man  he  addressed  did  not  answer.  He 
turned  a  perturbed  awkward  face  to  his  superior  in 
rank,  an  older  man,  who  was  house  steward. 

In  the  house  of  mortal  pain  or  death  there  is  but 
one  thing  more  full  of  suggestion  than  the  faint 
smell  of  antiseptics, — the  gruesome,  cleanly,  un 
pleasant  odour,  —  that  is,  the  unnatural  sound  of 
the  whispering  of  hushed  voices.  Lord  Walder- 
hurst  turned  cold,  and  felt  it  necessary  to  stiffen  his 
spine  when  he  heard  his  servant's  answer  and  the 
tone  in  which  it  was  made. 

"  Her  ladyship,  my  lord  —  her  ladyship  is  very 
low.  The  doctors  do  not  leave  her." 

«  Her  ladyship  ?  " 

The  man  stepped  back  deferentially.  The  door 
of  the  morning-room  had  been  opened,  and  old 
Lady  Maria  Bayne  stood  on  the  threshold.  Her 
worldly  air  of  elderly  gaiety  had  disappeared.  She 
looked  a  hundred.  She  was  almost  dilapidated. 
She  had  allowed  to  relax  themselves  the  springs 
which  held  her  together  and  ordinarily  supplied  her 
with  sprightly  movement. 


404  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

u  Come  here  !  "  she  said. 

When  he  entered  the  room,  aghast,  she  shut 
the  door. 

u  I  suppose  I  ought  to  break  it  to  you  gently," 
she  said  shakily,  "  but  I  shall  do  no  such  thing. 
It 's  too  much  to  expect  of  any  woman  who  has 
gone  through  what  I  have  during  these  last  three 
days.  The  creature  is  dying;  she  may  be  dead 
now." 

She  sank  on  the  sofa  and  began  to  wipe  away 
pouring  tears.  Her  old  cheeks  were  pale  and  her 
handkerchief  showed  touches  of  rose-pink  on  its 
dampness.  She  was  aware  of  their  presence,  but 
was  utterly  indifferent.  Walderhurst  stared  at  her 
haggard  disorder  and  cleared  his  throat,  finding 
himself  unable  to  speak  without  doing  so. 

"Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  tell  me,"  he  said 
with  weird  stiffness,  "  what  you  are  talking  about  ?  " 

"  About  Emily  Walderhurst,"  she  answered. 
"  The  boy  was  born  yesterday,  and  she  has  been 
sinking  ever  since.  She  cannot  possibly  last  much 
longer." 

"  She  !  "  he  gasped,  turning  lead  colour.  "  Can 
not  possibly  last,  —  Emily  ?  " 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  405 

The  wrench  and  shock  were  so  unnatural  that 
they  reached  that  part  of  his  being  where  human 
feeling  was  buried  under  selfishness  and  inhuman 
conventionality.  He  spoke,  and  actually  thought, 
of  Emily  first. 

Lady  Maria  continued  to  weep  shamelessly. 

"I  am  over  seventy,"  she  said,  "and  the  last 
three  days  have  punished  me  quite  enough  for  any 
thing  I  may  have  done  since  I  was  born.  I  have 
been  in  hell,  too,  James.  And,  when  she  could 
think  at  all,  she  has  only  thought  of  you  and  your 
miserable  child.  I  can't  imagine  what  is  the 
matter  with  a  woman  when  she  can  care  for  a 
man  to  such  an  extent.  Now  she  has  what  she 
wants, — she's  dying  for  you." 

"  Why  was  n't  I  told  ?  "  he  asked,  still  with  the 
weird  and  slow  stiffness. 

"  Because  she  was  a  sentimental  fool,  and  was 
afraid  of  disturbing  you.  She  ought  to  have 
ordered  you  home  and  kept  you  dancing  attend 
ance,  and  treated  you  to  hysterics." 

No  one  would  have  resented  such  a  course  of 
action  more  derisively  than  Lady  Maria  herself, 
but  the  last  three  days  had  reduced  her  to  some- 


406  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

thing  like  hysteria,  and  she  had  entirely  lost  her 

head. 

"  She  has  been  writing  cheerfully  to  me  —  " 

"  She  would  have  written  cheerfully  to  you 
if  she  had  been  seated  in  a  cauldron  of  boiling 
oil,  it  is  my  impression,"  broke  in  her  ladyship. 
"  She  has  been  monstrously  treated,  people  trying 
to  murder  her,  and  she  afraid  to  accuse  them  for 
fear  that  you  would  disapprove.  You  know  you 
have  a  nasty  manner,  James,  when  you  think 
your  dignity  is  interfered  with." 

Lord  Walderhurst  stood  clenching  and  un 
clenching  his  hands  as  they  hung  by  his  sides. 
He  did  not  like  to  believe  that  his  fever  had 
touched  his  brain,  but  he  doubted  his  senses 
hideously. 

"  My  good  Maria,"  he  said,  "  I  do  not  un 
derstand  a  word  you  say,  but  I  must  go  and  see 
her." 

"  And  kill  her,  if  she  has  a  breath  left !  You 
will  not  stir  from  here.  Thank  Heaven  !  here  is 
Dr.  Warren." 

The  door  had  opened  and  Dr.  Warren  came  in. 
He  had  just  laid  down  upon  the  coverlet  of  a  bed 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  407 

upstairs  what  seemed  to  be  the  hand  of  a  dying 
woman,  and  no  man  like  himself  can  do  such  a 
thing  and  enter  a  room  without  a  singular  look 
on  his  face. 

People  in  a  house  of  death  inevitably  whisper, 
whatsoever  their  remoteness  from  the  sick-room. 
Lady  Maria  cried  out  in  a  whisper  : 

"  Is  she  still  alive  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  was  the  response. 

Walderhurst  went  to  him. 

"  May  I  see  her  ?  " 

"  No,  Lord  Walderhurst.     Not  yet." 

u  Does  that  mean  that  it  is  not  yet  the  last 
moment  ?  " 

"  If  that  moment  had  obviously  arrived,  you 
would  be  called." 

"  What  must  I  do  ?  " 

"  There  is  absolutely  nothing  to  be  done  but 
to  wait.  Brent,  Forsythe,  and  Blount  are  with 
her." 

"  I  am  in  the  position  of  knowing  nothing.  I 
must  be  told.  Have  you  time  to  tell  me  ?  " 

They  went  to  Walderhurst's  study,  the  room 
which  had  been  Emily's  holy  of  holies. 


408  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"  Lady  Walderhurst  was  very  fond  of  sitting 
here  alone,"  Dr.  Warren  remarked. 

Walderhurst  saw  that  she  must  have  written 
letters  at  his  desk.  Her  own  pen  and  writing- 
tablet  lay  on  it.  She  had  probably  had  a  fancy 
for  writing  her  letters  to  himself  in  his  own 
chair.  It  would  be  like  her  to  have  done  it.  It 
gave  him  a  shock  to  see  on  a  small  table  a 
thimble  and  a  pair  of  scissors. 

"  I  ought  to  have  been  told,"  he  said  to  Dr. 
Warren. 

Dr.  Warren  sat  down  and  explained  why  he 
had  not  been  told. 

As  he  spoke,  interest  was  awakened  in  his 
mind  by  the  fact  that  Lord  Walderhurst  drew 
towards  him  the  feminine  writing-tablet  and  opened 
and  shut  it  mechanically. 

"  What  I  want  to  know,"  he  said,  "  is,  if  I 
shall  be  able  to  speak  to  her.  I  should  like  to 
speak  to  her." 

"  That  is  what  one  most  wants,"  was  Dr.  War 
ren's  non-committal  answer,  "  at  such  a  time." 

"  You  think  I  may  not  be  able  to  make  her 
understand  ?  " 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  409 

"  1  am  very  sorry.  It  is  impossible  to  know." 
"  This,"  slowly,  "  is  very  hard  on  me." 
"  There  is  something  I  feel  I  must  tell  you, 
Lord  Walderhurst."  Dr.  Warren  kept  a  keen 
eye  on  him,  having,  in  fact,  felt  far  from  attracted 
by  the  man  in  the  past,  and  wondering  how 
much  he  would  be  moved  by  certain  truths,  or 
if  he  would  be  moved  at  all.  "  Before  Lady 
Walderhurst's  illness,  she  was  very  explicit  with 
me  in  her  expression  of  her  one  desire.  She 
begged  me  to  give  her  my  word,  which  I  could 
not  have  done  without  your  permission,  that 
whatsoever  the  circumstances,  if  life  must  be 
sacrificed,  it  should  be  hers." 

A  dusky  red  shot  through  Walderhurst's  leaden 
pallor. 

"  She  asked  you  that  ?  "  he  said. 
"  Yes.  And  at  the  worst  she  did  not  forget. 
When  she  became  delirious,  and  we  heard  that 
she  was  praying,  I  gathered  that  she  seemed  to 
be  praying  to  me,  as  to  a  deity  whom  she  im 
plored  to  remember  her  fervent  pleading.  When 
her  brain  was  clear  she  was  wonderful.  She 
saved  your  son  by  supernatural  endurance." 


4io  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

"You  mean  to  say  that  if  she  had  cared  more 
for  herself  and  less  for  the  safety  of  the  child  she 
need  not  have  been  as  she  is  now  ? " 

Warren  bent  his  head. 

Lord  Walderhurst's  eyeglass  had  been  dangling 
weakly  from  its  cord.  He  picked  it  up  and  stuck 
it  in  his  eye  to  stare  the  doctor  in  the  face.  The 
action  was  a  singular,  spasmodic,  hard  one.  But 
his  hands  were  shaking. 

"  By  God  !  "  he  cried  out,  "  if  I  had  been  here 
it  should  not  have  been  so  !  " 

He  got  up  and  supported  himself  against  the 
table  with  the  shaking  hands. 

"  It  is  very  plain,"  he  said,  "  that  she  has 
been  willing  to  be  torn  to  pieces  upon  the  rack 
to  give  me  the  thing  I  wanted.  And  now, 
good  God  in  heaven,  I  feel  that  I  would  have 
strangled  the  boy  with  my  own  hands  rather  than 
lose  her." 

In  this  manner,  it  seemed,  did  a  rigid,  self- 
encased,  and  conventional  elderly  nobleman  reach 
emotion.  He  looked  uncanny.  His  stiff  dignity 
hung  about  him  in  rags  and  tatters.  Cold  sweat 
stood  on  his  forehead  and  his  chin  twitched. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  411 

"  Just  now,"  he  poured  forth,  "  I  don't  care 
whether  there  is  a  child  or  not.  I  want  her  —  I 
care  for  nothing  else.  I  want  to  look  at  her, 
I  want  to  speak  to  her,  whether  she  is  alive  or 
dead.  But  if  there  is  a  spark  of  life  in  her,  I 
believe  she  will  hear  me." 

Dr.  Warren  sat  and  watched  him,  wondering. 
He  knew  curious  things  of  the  human  creature, 
things  which  most  of  his  confreres  did  not  know. 
He  knew  that  Life  was  a  mysterious  thing,  and 
that  even  a  dying  flame  of  it  might  sometimes  be 
fanned  to  flickering  anew  by  powers  more  subtle 
than  science  usually  regards  as  applicable  influ 
ences.  He  knew  the  nature  of  the  half-dead 
woman  lying  on  her  bed  upstairs,  and  he  compre 
hended  what  the  soul  of  her  life  had  been,  —  her 
divinely  innocent  passion  for  a  self-centred  man. 
He  had  seen  it  in  the  tortured  courage  of  her  eyes 
in  hours  of  mortal  agony. 

"  Don't  forget,"  she  had  said.  "  Our  Father 
which  art  in  Heaven.  Don't  let  anyone  forget. 
Hallowed  be  thy  name." 

The  man,  leaning  upon  his  shaking  hands  be 
fore  him,  stood  there,  for  these  moments  at  least. 


412  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

a  harrowed  thing.  Not  a  single  individual  of  his 
acquaintance  would  have  known  him. 

"  I  want  to  see  her  before  the  breath  leaves 
her,"  he  gave  forth  in  a  harsh,  broken  whisper. 
"  I  want  to  speak.  Let  me  see  her." 

Dr.  Warren  left  his  chair  slowly.  Out  of  a 
thousand  chances  against  her,  might  this  one 
chance  be  for  her,' — the  chance  of  her  hearing, 
and  being  called  back  to  the  shores  she  was  drift 
ing  from,  by  this  stiff,  conventional  fellow's  voice. 
There  was  no  knowing  the  wondrousness  of  a 
loving  human  thing,  even  when  its  shackles  were 
loosening  themselves  to  set  it  free. 

"  I  will  speak  to  those  in  charge  with  me,"  he 
said.  "  Will  you  control  every  outward  expression 
of  feeling  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

Adjoining  Lady  Walderhurst's  sleeping  apart 
ment  was  a  small  boudoir  where  the  medical  men 
consulted  together.  Two  of  them  were  standing 
near  the  window  conversing  in  whispers. 

Walderhurst  merely  nodded  and  went  to  wait 
apart  by  the  fire.  Ceremony  had  ceased  to 
exist.  Dr.  Warren  joined  the  pair  at  the  win- 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  413 

dow.     Lord  Walderhurst  only  heard  one  or  two 
sentences. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  nothing,  now,  can  matter  — 
at  any  moment." 

Those  who  do  not  know  from  experience  what 
he  saw  when  he  entered  the  next  room  have  rea 
son  to  give  thanks  to  such  powers  as  they  put 
trust  in. 

There  ruled  in  the  large,  dim  chamber  an  awful 
order  and  silence.  The  faint  flickering  of  the  fire 
was  a  marked  sound.  There  was  no  other  but 
a  fainter  and  even  more  irregular  one  heard  as  one 
neared  the  bed.  Sometimes  it  seemed  to  stop, 
then,  with  a  weak  gasp,  begin  again.  A  nurse  in 
uniform  stood  in  waiting  ;  an  elderly  man  sat  on 
a  chair  at  the  bedside,  listening  and  looking  at  his 
watch,  something  white  and  lifeless  lying  in  his 
grasp,  —  Emily  Walderhurst's  waxen,  unmoving 
hand.  The  odour  of  antiseptics  filled  the  nostrils. 
Lord  Walderhurst  drew  near.  The  speaking  sign 
of  the  moment  was  that  neither  nurse  nor  doctor 
stirred. 

Emily  lay  low  upon  a  pillow.      Her  face  was  as 


4H  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

bloodless  as  wax  and  was  a  little  turned  aside. 
The  Shadow  was  hovering  over  it  and  touched  her 
closed  lids  and  the  droop  of  her  cheek  and  corners 
of  her  mouth.  She  was  far,  far  away. 

This  was  what  Walderhurst  felt  first,  —  the 
strange  remoteness,  the  lonely  stillness  of  her.  She 
had  gone  alone  far  from  the  place  he  stood  in,  and 
which  they  two  familiarly  knew.  She  was  going, 
alone,  farther  still.  As  he  stood  and  watched 
her  closed  eyes, — the  nice,  easily  pleased  eyes, 
—  it  was  they  themselves,  closed  on  him  and 
all  prosaic  things  and  pleasures,  which  filled 
him  most  strangely  with  that  sense  of  her  loneli 
ness,  weirdly  enough,  hers,  not  his.  He  was 
not  thinking  of  himself  but  of  her.  He  wanted 
to  withdraw  her  from  her  loneliness,  to  bring  her 
back. 

He  knelt  down  carefully,  making  no  sound, 
stealthily,  not  removing  his  eyes  from  her  strange, 
aloof  face.  He  slowly  dared  to  close  his  hand  on 
hers  which  lay  outside  the  coverlet.  And  it  was  a 
little  chill  and  damp,  —  a  little  chill. 

A  power,  a  force  which  hides  itself  in  human 
things  and  which  most  of  them  know  not  of,  was 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  415 

gathering  within  him.  He  was  warm  and  alive, 
a  living  man;  his  hand  as  it  closed  on  the  chill  of 
hers  was  warm  ;  his  newly  awakened  being  sent 
heat  to  it. 

He  whispered  her  name  close  to  her  ear. 

"Emily  !  "  slowly,  "Emily!  " 

She  was  very  far  away  and  lay  unmoving.  Her 
breast  scarcely  stirred  with  the  faintness  of  her 
breath. 

"Emily!  Emily!" 

The  doctor  slightly  raised  his  eyes  to  glance  at 
him.  He  was  used  to  death-bed  scenes,  but  this 
was  curious,  because  he  knew  the  usual  outward 
aspect  of  Lord  Walderhurst,  and  its  alteration  at 
this  moment  suggested  abnormal  things.  He  had 
not  the  flexibility  of  mind  which  revealed  to  Dr. 
Warren  that  there  were  perhaps  abnormal  moments 
for  the  most  normal  and  inelastic  personages. 

"Emily!"  said  his  lordship,  "Emily!" 

He  did  not  cease  from  saying  it,  in  a  low  yet 
reaching  whisper,  at  regular  intervals,  for  at  least 
half  an  hour.  He  did  not  move  from  his  knees,  and 
so  intense  was  his  absorption  that  the  presence  of 
those  who  came  near  was  as  nothing. 


416  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

What  he  hoped  or  intended  to  do  he  did  not 
explain  to  himself.  He  was  of  the  order  of  man 
who  coldly  waves  aside  all  wanderings  on  the  sub 
jects  of  occult  claims.  He  believed  in  proven  facts, 
in  professional  aid,  in  the  abolition  of  absurdities. 
But  his  whole  narrow  being  concentrated  itself 
on  one  thing,  —  he  wanted  this  woman  back.  He 
wanted  to  speak  to  her. 

What  power  he  unknowingly  drew  from  the 
depths  of  him,  what  exquisite  answering  thing  he 
reached  at,  could  not  be  said.  Perhaps  it  was  only 
some  remote  and  subtle  turn  of  the  tide  of  life  and 
death  which  chanced  to  come  to  his  aid. 

"  Emily  !  "  he  said  again,  after  many  times. 

Dr.  Warren  at  this  moment  met  the  lifted  eyes 
of  the  doctor  who  was  counting  her  pulse,  and  in 
response  to  his  look  went  to  him. 

"  It  seems  slightly  stronger,"  Dr.  Forsythe  whis 
pered. 

The  slow,  faint  breathing  changed  a  shade ; 
there  was  heard  a  breath  slightly,  very  slightly 
deeper,  less  flickering,  then  another- 

Lady  Walderhurst  slightly  stirred. 

"  Remain  where  you  are,"  whispered  Dr.  Warren 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  417 

to  her  husband,  "  and  continue  to  speak  to  her. 
Do  not  alter  your  tone.      Go  on." 

Emily  Walderhurst,  drifting  out  on  a  still,  border 
less,  white  sea,  sinking  gently  as  she  floated,  sinking 
in  peaceful  painlessness  deeper  and  deeper  in  her 
drifting  until  the  soft,  cool  water  lapped  her  lips  and, 
as  she  knew  without  fear,  would  soon  cover  them 
and  her  quiet  face,  hiding  them  forever,  —  heard 
from  far,  very  far  away,  across  the  whiteness  float 
ing  about  her,  a  faint  sound  which  at  first  only  fell 
upon  the  stillness  without  meaning.  Everything 
but  the  silence  had  been  left  behind  aeons  ago. 
Nothing  remained  but  the  soundless  white  sea  and 
the  slow  drifting  and  sinking  as  one  swayed.  It 
was  more  than  sleep,  this  still  peace,  because  there 
was  no  thought  of  waking  to  any  shore. 

But  the  far-off  sound  repeated  itself  again,  again, 
again  and  again,  monotonously.  Something  was  call 
ing  to  Something.  She  was  so  given  up  to  the  soft 
drifting  that  she  had  no  thoughts  to  give,  and  gave 
none.  In  drifting  so,  one  did  not  think  —  thought 
was  left  in  the  far-off  place  the  white  sea  carried 
one  from.  She  sank  quietly  a  little  deeper  and  the 


4i8  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

water  touched  her  lip.  But  Something  was  calling 
to  Something,  something  was  calling  something  to 
come  back.  The  call  was  low,  low  and  strange, 
so  regular  and  so  unbroken  and  insistent,  that  it 
arrested,  she  knew  not  what.  Did  it  arrest  the 
floating  and  the  swaying  in  the  enfolding  sea? 
Was  the  drifting  slower  ?  She  could  not  rouse 
herself  to  think,  she  wanted  to  go  on.  Did  she 
no  longer  feel  the  water  lapping  against  her  lip? 
Something  was  calling  to  Something  still.  Once, 
aeons  ago,  before  the  white  sea  had  borne  her  away, 
she  would  have  understood. 

"  Emily,  Emily,  Emily  !  " 

Yes,  once  she  would  have  known  what  the 
sound  meant.  Once  it  had  meant  something,  a 
long  time  ago.  It  had  even  now  disturbed  the 
water,  and  made  it  cease  to  lap  so  near  her  lip. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  one  doctor  had  raised  his 
eyes  to  the  other, and  Lady  Walderhurst  had  stirred. 

When  Walderhurst  left  his  place  beside  his 
wife's  bed,  Dr.  Warren  went  with  him  to  his 
room.  He  made  him  drink  brandy  and  called 
his  man  to  him. 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  419 

"  You  must  remember,"  he  said,  "  that  you  are 
an  invalid  yourself." 

"  I  believe,"  was  the  sole  answer,  given  with  an 
abstracted  knitting  of  the  brows,  —  "I  believe  that 
in  some  mysterious  way  I  have  made  her  hear 
me." 

Dr.  Warren  looked  grave.  He  was  a  deeply 
interested  man.  He  felt  that  he  had  been  looking 
on  at  an  almost  incomprehensible  thing. 

"  Yes,"  was  his  reply.  "  I  believe  that  you 
have." 

About  an  hour  later  Lord  Walderhurst  made  his 
wav  downstairs  to  the  room  in  which  Lady  Maria 
Bayne  sat.  She  still  looked  a  hundred  years  old, 
but  her  maid  had  redressed  her  toupee,  and  given 
her  a  handkerchief  neither  damp  nor  tinted  with 
rubbed-off  rouge.  She  looked  at  her  relative  a 
shade  more  leniently,  but  still  addressed  him  with 
something  of  the  manner  of  a  person  undeservedly 
chained  to  a  malefactor.  Her  irritation  was  not 
modified  by  the  circumstance  that  it  was  extremely 
difficult  to  be  definite  in  the  expression  of  her  con 
demnation  of  things  which  had  made  her  hideously 
uncomfortable.  Having  quite  approved  of  his 


420  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

going  to  India  in  the  first  place,  it  was  not  easy  to 
go  thoroughly  into  the  subject  of  the  numerous 
reasons  why  a  man  of  his  years  and  responsibilities 
ought  to  have  realised  that  it  was  his  duty  to  re 
main  at  home  and  take  care  of  his  wife. 

"  Incredible  as  it  seems,"  she  snapped,  "  the 
doctors  think  there  is  a  slight  change,  for  the 
better." 

"  Yes,"  Walderhurst  answered. 

He  leaned  against  the  mantel  and  gazed  into 
the  fire. 

"  She  will  come  back,"  he  added  in  a  mono 
tone. 

Lady  Maria  stared  at  him.  She  felt  that  the 
man  was  eerie,  Walderhurst,  of  all  men  on  earth ! 

"  Where  do  you  think  she  has  been  ?  "  She  pro 
fessed  to  make  the  inquiry  with  an  air  of  reproof. 

"  How  should  one  know  ?  "  rather  with  the  old 
stiffness.  "  It  is  impossible  to  tell_." 

Lady  Maria  Bayne  was  not  the  person  possess 
ing  the  temperament  to  incline  him  to  explain  that, 
wheresoever  the  outer  sphere  might  be  to  which 
the  dying  woman  had  been  drifting,  he  had  been 
following  her,  as  far  as  living  man  could  go. 


EMILY  FOX-SETON          421 

The  elderly  house  steward  opened  the  door  and 
spoke  in  the  hollow  whisper. 

"  The  head  nurse  wished  to  know  if  your  lady 
ship  would  be  so  good  as  to  see  Lord  Oswyth 
before  he  goes  to  sleep." 

Walderhurst  turned  his  head  towards  the  man. 
Lord  Oswyth  was  the  name  of  his  son.  He  felt 
a  shock. 

"I  will  come  to  the  nursery,"  answered  Lady 
Maria.  "  You  have  not  seen  him  yet  ?  "  turning 
to  Walderhurst. 

"  How  could  I  ?  " 

"  Then  you  had  better  come  now.  If  she  be 
comes  conscious  and  has  life  enough  to  expect 
anything,  she  will  expect  you  to  burst  forth  into 
praises  of  him.  You  had  better  at  least  commit 
to  memory  the  colour  of  his  eyes  and  hair.  I 
believe  he  has  two  hairs.  He  is  a  huge,  fat,  over 
grown  thing  with  enormous  cheeks.  When  I  saw 
his  bloated  self-indulgent  look  yesterday,  I  confess 
I  wanted  to  slap  him." 

Her  description  was  not  wholly  accurate,  but  he 
was  a  large  and  robust  child,  as  Walderhurst  saw 
when  he  beheld  him. 


422  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

From  kneeling  at  the  pillow  on  which  the  blood 
less  statue  lay,  and  calling  into  space  to  the  soul 
which  would  not  hear,  it  was  a  far  cry  to  the 
warmed  and  lighted  orris-perfumed  room  in  which 
Life  had  begun. 

There  was  the  bright  fire  before  which  the 
high  brass  nursery  fender  shone.  There  was  soft 
"linen  hanging  to  be  warmed,  there  was  a  lace-hung 
cradle  swinging  in  its  place,  and  in  a  lace-draped 
basket  silver  and  gold  boxes  and  velvet  brushes 
and  sponges  such  as  he  knew  nothing  about.  He 
had  not  been  in  such  a  place  before,  and  felt  awk 
ward,  and  yet  m  secret  abnormally  moved,  or  it 
seemed  abnormally  to  him. 

Two  women  were  in  attendance.  One  of  them 
held  in  her  arms  what  he  had  come  to  see.  It  was 
moving  slightly  in  its  coverings  of  white.  Its 
bearer  stood  waiting  in  respectful  awe  as  Lady 
Maria  uncovered  its  face. 

"  Look  at  it,"  she  said,  concealing  her  relieved 
elation  under  a  slightly  caustic  manner.  "  How 
you  will  relish  the  situation  when  Emily  tells  you 
that  he  is  like  you,  I  can't  be  as  sure  as  I  should 
be  of  myself  under  the  same  circumstances." 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  423 

Walderhurst  applied  his  monocle  and  gazed  for 
some  moments  at  the  object  before  him.  He  had 
not  known  that  men  experienced  these  curiously 
unexplainable  emotions  at  such  times.  He  kept 
a  strong  hold  on  himself. 

"  Would  you  like  to  hold  him  ?  "  inquired 
Lady  Maria.  She  was  conscious  of  a  benevolent 
effort  to  restrain  the  irony  in  her  voice. 

Lord  Walderhurst  made  a  slight  movement 
backward. 

"I  —  I  should  not  know  how,"  he  said,  and 
then  felt  angry  at  himself.  He  desired  to  take 
the  thing  in  his  arms.  He  desired  to  feel  its 
warmth.  He  absolutely  realised  that  if  he  had 
been  alone  with  it,  he  should  have  laid  aside  his 
eyeglass  and  touched  its  cheek  with  his  lips. 

Two  days  afterwards  he  was  sitting  by  his 
wife's  pillow,  watching  her  shut  lids,  when  he 
saw  them  quiver  and  slowly  move  until  they 
were  wide  open.  Her  eyes  looked  very  large  in 
her  colourless,  more  sharply  chiselled  face.  They 
saw  him  and  him  only,  as  light  came  gradually 
into  them.  They  did  not  move,  but  rested  on 


424  EMILY  FOX-SETON 

him.      He    bent    forward,   almost    afraid    to    stir. 

He  spoke  to  her  as  he  had  spoken  before. 

"  Emily  !  "  very  low,  "  Emily  !  " 

Her  voice  was  only  a  fluttering  breath,  but  she 
answered. 

«  It  —  was  —  you  !  "  she  said. 


Chapter 
Qtientjfour 


)UCH  individuals  as  had  not 
already  thought  it  expedient 
to  gradually  loosen  and  drop 
the  links  of  their  acquaintance 
with  Captain  Alec  Osborn 
did  not  find,  on  his  return  to 
his  duties  in  India,  that  the 
leave  of  absence  spent  in  England  among  his 
relatives  had  improved  him.  He  was  plainly 
consuming  enormous  quantities  of  brandy,  and 
was  steadily  going,  physically  and  mentally,  to 
seed.  He  had  put  on  flesh,  and  even  his  always 
dubious  good  looks  were  rapidly  deserting  him. 
The  heavy  young  jowl  looked  less  young  and 
more  pronounced,  and  he  bore  about  an  evil 
countenance. 


426  EMILY.   FOX-SETON 

u  Disappointment  may  have  played  the  devil 
with  him,"  it  was  said  by  an  elderly  observer; 
"  but  he  has  played  the  devil  with  himself.  He 
was  a  wrong  'un  to  begin  with." 

When  Hester's  people  flocked  to  see  her  and 
hear  her  stories  of  exalted  life  in  England,  they 
greeted  her  with  exclamations  of  dismay.  If 
Osborn  had  lost  his  looks,  she  also  had  lost  hers. 
She  was  yellow  and  haggard,  and  her  eyes  looked 
over-grown.  She  had  not  improved  in  the  matter 
of  temper,  and  answered  all  effusive  questions 
with  a  dry,  bitter  little  smile.  The  baby  she  had 
brought  back  was  a  puny,  ugly,  and  tiny  girl. 
Hester's  dry,  little  smile  when  she  exhibited  her 
to  her  relations  was  not  pretty. 

"  She  saved  herself  disappointment  by  being  a 
girl,"  she  remarked.  ct  At  all  events,  she  knows 
from  the  outset  that  no  one  can  rob  her  of  the 
chance  of  being  the  Marquis  of  Walderhurst." 

It  was  rumoured  that  ugly  things  went  on  in  the 
Osborn  bungalow.  It  was  known  that  scenes 
occurred  between  the  husband  and  wife  which 
were  not  of  the  order  admitted  as  among  the 
methods  of  polite  society.  One  evening  Mrs. 


EMILY  FOX-SETON  427 

Osborn  walked  slowly  down  the  Mall  dressed  in 
her  best  gown  and  hat,  and  bearing  on  her  cheek  a 
broad,  purpling  mark.  When  asked  questions,  she 
merely  smiled  and  made  no  answer,  which  was 
extremely  awkward  for  the  well-meaning  inquirer. 

The  questioner  was  the  wife  of  the  colonel  of 
the  regiment,  and  when  the  lady  related  the  inci 
dent  to  her  husband  in  the  evening,  he  drew  in 
his  breath  sharply  and  summed  the  situation  up  in 
a  few  words. 

"  That  little  woman,"  he  said,  "  lives  every  day 
through  twenty-four  hours  of  hell.  One  can  see 
it  in  her  eyes,  even  when  she  professes  to  smile  at 
the  brute  for  decency's  sake.  The  awfulness  of  a 
woman's  forced  smile  at  the  devil  she  is  tied  to, 
loathing  him  and  bearing  in  her  soul  the  thing, 
blood  itself  could  not  wipe  out.  Ugh  !  I  've  seen 
it  once  before,  and  I  recognised  it  in  her  again. 
There  will  be  a  bad  end  to  this." 

There  probably  would  have  been,  with  the  aid 
of  unlimited  brandy  and  unrestrained  devil,  some 
outbreak  so  gross  that  the  social  laws  which  rule 
men  who  are  "  officers  and  gentlemen  "  could  not 
have  ignored  or  overlooked  it.  But  the  end  came 


428  EMILY   FOX-SETON 

in    an    unexpected    way,  and    Osborn   was   saved 

from  open  ignominy  by  an  accident. 

On  a  certain  day  when  he  had  drunk  heavily 
and  had  shut  Hester  up  with  him  for  an  hour's 
torture,  after  leaving  her  writhing  and  suffocating 
with  sobs,  he  went  to  examine  some  newly  bought 
firearms.  In  twenty  minutes  it  was  he  who  lay 
upon  the  floor  writhing  and  suffocating,  and  but  a 
few  minutes  later  he  was  a  dead  man.  A  charge 
from  a  gun  he  had  believed  unloaded  had  finished 
him. 

Lady  Walderhurst  was  the  kindest  of  women, 
as  the  world  knew.  She  sent  for  little  Mrs. 
Osborn  and  her  child,  and  was  tender  goodness 
itself  to  them. 

Hester  had  been  in  England  four  years,  and 
Lord  Oswyth  had  a  brother  as  robust  as  himself, 
when  one  heavenly  summer  afternoon,  as  the  two 
women  sat  on  the  lawn  drinking  little  cups  of  tea, 
Hester  made  a  singular  revelation,  and  made  it  with 
out  moving  a  muscle  of  her  small  countenance. 

"  I  always  intended  to  tell  you,  Emily,"  she 
began  quietly,  "  and  I  will  tell  you  now." 


EMILY   FOX-SETON  429 

"  What,  dear  ?  "  said  Emily,  holding  out  to  her 
a  plate  of  tiny  buttered  scones.  "  Have  some  of 
these  nice,  little  hot  ones." 

"  Thank  you."  Hester  took  one  of  the  nice, 
little  hot  ones,  but  did  not  begin  to  eat  it.  In 
stead,  she  held  it  untouched  and  let  her  eyes  rest 
on  the  brilliant  flower  terraces  spread  out  below. 
"  What  I  meant  to  tell  you  was  this.  The  gun 
was  not  loaded,  the  gun  Alec  shot  himself  with, 
when  he  laid  it  aside." 

Emily  put  down  her  tea-cup  hastily. 

"  I  saw  him  take  out  the  charge  myself  two 
hours  before.  When  he  came  in,  mad  with  drink, 
and  made  me  go  into  the  room  with  him,  Ameerah 
saw  him.  She  always  listened  outside.  Before 
we  left  The  Kennel  Farm,  the  day  he  tortured 
and  taunted  me  until  I  lost  my  head  and  shrieked 
out  to  him  that  I  had  told  you  what  I  knew,  and 
had  helped  you  to  go  away,  he  struck  me  again 
and  again.  Ameerah  heard  that.  He  did  it  several 
times  afterwards,  and  she  always  knew.  She  always 
intended  to  end  it  in  some  way.  She  knew  how 
drunk  he  was  that  last  day,  and —  It  was  she  who 
went  in  and  loaded  the  gun  while  he  was  having 


EMILY   FOX-SETON 

his  scene  with  me.  She  knew  he  would  go  and 
begin  to  pull  the  things  about  without  having  the 
sense  to  know  what  he  was  doing.  She  had  seen 
him  do  it  before.  I  know  it  was  she  who  put  the 
load  in.  We  have  never  uttered  a  word  to  each 
other  about  it,  but  I  know  she  did  it,  and  that 
she  knows  I  know.  Before  I  married  Alec,  I  did 
not  understand  how  one  human  being  could  kill 
another.  He  taught  me  to  understand,  quite.  But 
I  had  not  the  courage  to  do  it  myself.  Ameerah 
had." 

And  while  Lady  Walderhurst  sat  gazing  at  her 
with  a  paling  face,  she  began  quietly  to  eat  the  little 
buttered  scone. 


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